Sunshine and Shadows
by RegencyGirl17
Summary: With the Darcy family thriving at Pemberley and Kitty and Richard settled at Rosings, the future looks bright and promising. But clouds will cover the bluest sky and troubles are not far off. Georgiana meets with heartbreak in her search for love, and Richard and Kitty must fight to hold their family together as outside forces work to tear it apart. (Sequel to Life at Pemberley.)
1. Chapter 1

**Important Author's Note: **This story is a continuation or sequel to one of my earlier stories: _Life at Pemberley_. Events and characters are introduced in that story which may make this one confusing for new readers. So if you haven't read that one yet, feel free to pop on over to my page, read it, and come back here when you're done. I'd love to have you. :)

**Less Important Author's Note: **Well, here I am again, exactly one year and eight days after the day I posted the first chapter of _Life at Pemberley_. I was hoping to get this chapter up eight days ago... but it didn't work out that way obviously. :) I hope you all enjoy this installment! Here goes...

* * *

**Chapter 1: May 1817 **

Kitty Fitzwilliam hurried down the main hall at Rosings, its large windows with their expensive glazing, once tightly closed, now open to the May breezes. There was a letter in her hand, a bright smile on her lips and a spring in her step.

At the head of the stairs she almost ran into her husband who was coming up to find her.

"Where are you going so fast and with such a happy face?" Richard asked, smiling too as he gathered her up in his arms.

"Lizzy has written, see. The letter was delayed and they shall arrive today," Kitty exclaimed brightly.

"What a wonderful bit of news. But has it really been so terrible here with me that you are made desperate for other society?" Richard questioned, raising his eyebrows inquiringly.

"You goose, of course not!" laughed Kitty, wrapping her arms about his neck and pulling at his hair playfully. "But I _am _eager to see Lizzy. I want her to see Rosings as it is now. I want her to meet James and see how Cathy has grown."

"And so you should," he said, hugging her to him again. "You have done wonders here Kitty, and no one has a better right to honest pride than you."

"Thank you, Richard," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes in spite of herself, for she _had_ worked hard and his praise was very dear to her.

"Now," he said, touching her hand lightly. "I must settle a few matters before I devote myself to our prospective guests for the afternoon. If you will excuse me, my love?"

"Oh, goodness yes. I have so much to do before they get here."

"I love you Kitty."

She did not answer in words—but she blew him a kiss as she hurried down the hall.

* * *

"There is the parsonage," exclaimed Elizabeth as she caught sight of it through the trees of the long lane. "I daresay the Collins are down to the village for I do not see anyone." Another minute passed, then, "There, there is Rosings!"

Darcy, sitting opposite her and Georgiana with William on his knee and Louis' basket beside him, watched her with a somewhat amused expression.

"Might I inquire as to why the prospect gives you such delight?" he asked blandly.

Lizzy looked at him in surprise. "It is not the prospect; I confess I saw little to admire in the artificial nature of the place when last I saw it. No, it is the people who live here now and the events which have passed here that move me."

"I see they have begun trimming the bushes into a more natural shape. Richard always suggested it when he visited, and Lady Catherine always refused decidedly," Darcy commented.

Lizzy turned to look fully at her husband but addressed his sister. "Georgiana, I am obliged to think that your brother feigns such complacence to hide his true feelings. I do not believe him capable of so little emotion as he professes."

Georgiana smiled but simply said, "The bushes are indeed altered Lizzy."

"And so is the very air of the place. Every feature no longer screams Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It feels like a home," Elizabeth added warmly.

Darcy and Georgiana shared a smile as Lizzy leaned out the window to look again at the fast approaching house.

* * *

"Kitty, they are here," called Richard as he espied the carriage from a window. She appeared directly, her face alight with eagerness and they stepped out together to meet it.

In a few short moments the Darcys were out of the carriage and Kitty was trying to wrap her arms around Lizzy and Georgiana at the same time.

"Oh, how I have missed you both!" she exclaimed, gripping their hands as if she feared they might disappear if she let go.

"You look very well Kitty," Lizzy observed with a happy smile as Georgiana moved to embrace her cousin Richard. He in his turn had already greeted Darcy, where he stood nearby with his eldest son on his arm, with the warm affection that had always subsisted between them.

"If happiness can cause good health then I ought to be the healthiest woman in the world," Kitty said with a merry laugh, her looks giving proof enough of her words.

Richard now approached Lizzy who held out her hand to him. He took it and pressed it warmly. "Sister," he greeted her.

"Richard," she returned the salutation, smiling at him. "You don't know how glad I am to see you both."

"The feeling is mutual. We are very happy to have you here. Aren't we Kitty?" drawing her to his side.

"Indeed we are," she agreed. "Now please come inside, all of you. Where is my little nephew Louis?"

Lizzy turned to lift the child from his basket in the carriage and he lay in her arms, blinking drowsily at the sunlight and strange faces which peered down at him.

The party went inside and up to the nursery, for, to the new parents, it was the place of greatest interest.

Darcy set William, who had begun to squirm violently, on the floor and the little boy stood, surveying the room with a finger in his mouth. He caught sight of little Cathy, who he had not seen in over a year and certainly could not remember, and took a wobbly step backwards.

"Baby!" he said, looking up at his mother and pointing to Cathy.

Richard laughed aloud and bent down beside his adopted daughter.

The nurse had handed James over to Kitty and she, Lizzy and Georgiana were cooing over him and Louis, who regarded each-other stoically from their respective mother's arms.

Darcy moved to stand by Richard who sat on his heels behind Cathy, as she held on to his finger and regarded William dubiously from her hazel eyes.

"Baby!" William cried again.

"Her name is Cathy," said Richard.

William looked uncertain for a moment, then a smile lighted up his little face. "Baby! Catty!" He crowed.

Cathy sat down suddenly as her little legs gave way under her, as one-and-a-half-year-old legs are wont to do. William, thinking it was some sort of game, did likewise and they sat staring at each other in a friendly silence.

"I think they will be fine," remarked Richard, standing up and addressing Darcy. "Shall we?" He motioned in the direction of the door. "I doubt we shall be wanted for a solid three hours."

Darcy smiled and turned to exit the room. Richard followed him out and shut the door quietly.

"You seemed very much in your element, Richard," Darcy remarked dryly.

"So are you, in Pemberley's nursery when no one is about," retorted Richard.

Darcy smiled. "I confess crowded spaces never put me at my ease."

"I hadn't the faintest idea," Richard said dryly, at the same time clapping Darcy on the shoulder. "Shall we walk or ride?"

* * *

Kitty, on coming down to the parlor late in the evening, found Georgiana alone. She was standing by a window, watching the sunset. Her golden hair shone like a halo as she turned to address her friend—silhouetted as she was against the colorful sky.

"The others are taking a turn about the garden. I thought I would wait and see if you would like to join them or sit here together until they come back."

"Thank you for thinking of me. I am a little tired and should like to wait for them here if you have no objection," Kitty said as she crossed to the window and stood beside her friend.

They watched quietly as the horizon changed from blue to amethyst and as copper and gold threads of clouds were embroidered on its clear surface by some skillful, unseen hand.

A wistful look crept into Georgiana's dark eyes and, despite being only a few months older, Kitty felt a motherly instinct towards her friend and longed to comfort her.

Georgiana slipped her hand into Kitty's and she clasped it tightly.

"Will you come and sit with me Georgiana?" she asked finally.

The younger girl nodded and they turned from the window to sit together quietly on the sofa.

"I have missed our late-night conversations Georgie," Kitty said.

"Yes," said Georgiana, smiling a little. "We would talk for hours after everyone else was asleep.

"Lizzy never found out."

"No." Georgiana laughed, but there was a sound of tears in her voice.

"You are tired dear," exclaimed Kitty tenderly, "The trip was long perhaps."

"No, not tired. Don't mind me Kitty."

"Is something wrong then?"

"It is foolish."

"I shall not think so. I am very foolish myself, although I hope I am improving."

"It is selfish, I do not mind it usually. You shall despise me if I tell you."

"I could never despise you, my sweet Georgiana! Any fault you confide to me will only relieve me, for I have so often thought your goodness and sweetness impossible to reach. Tell me Georgie."

"Well, you and Lizzy have found such happiness in your husbands and children. I wonder if such happiness will ever be mine. I suppose I am jealous, but I do not wish to lessen your happiness, only to augment my own."

Kitty almost smiled but hid it hastily. "Why Georgie, such feelings come to everyone surely. There is nothing wrong in hoping for love."

"But I begin to despair of it. And as I do so I grow more envious of the love I see around me."

Kitty looked at her friend earnestly. Georgiana was twenty years old, in the full bloom of her youth and beauty, for she was of that type whom people will call a beautiful girl, although never a pretty one.

"Surely you do not lack suitors Georgie? Why, the winter we were in town together there were many gentlemen, very eager to make your acquaintance. And I know several of them renewed their attentions this past winter. I only wondered at your being so indifferent towards them all."

"You do not know the evils of having a large dowry. I have no way of knowing if a man desires me as a wife for my own sake or for my money."

"Indeed, I know nothing of that evil. Only that of having too little," Kitty replied quietly.

Georgiana leaned back on the cushions and spoke thoughtfully. "I think it very strange that all people have troubles, no matter if they are wealthy or not, and yet people never seem to realize it and constantly seek after riches as a means of avoiding anxieties."

"It is unfortunate…" said Kitty uncertainly, for she was not quite able to follow Georgiana's thoughts, and feared to wound her by saying the wrong thing.

"I know that there are people who are starving to whom money is a blessing beyond compare but I think that those who have enough need not always be striving for excess. Society does not respect such a lifestyle however."

Kitty leaned her cheek on her hand and regarded Georgiana quietly, feeling that to unburden herself unchecked would do more for Georgiana than any words she might offer could.

After a moment the younger girl continued earnestly, "I am determined that I would rather remain unmarried than to settle for a love less beautiful than those which I have witnessed around me. Lizzy's and Fitzwilliam's, yours and Richard's, Jane's and Mr. Bingley's. I am so fortunate or so unfortunate, I hardly know which, as to have had examples before me which spoil any desire for the insipid type of union which so many of those who marry for money settle for. I realize that such an attitude may well lead to my living at Pemberley my whole life, and still I will not alter it," she ended, with more vehemence than Kitty had ever heard from her gentle, shy friend.

"I think your resolve is a noble one," Kitty exclaimed. "And Georgiana, think. If so many of those who you know have found such happiness it seems obvious that there must be another such for you. You should by no means despair so soon."

Georgiana pressed her hand and they sat silently for a minute. Then Georgiana whispered softly, "Thank you Kitty. I always feel I can talk to you."

"As you always may."

"You won't tell Lizzy or Fitzwilliam what I said, or even Richard?"

"No, but surely they wish you to be happy and would only try to help you."

"I know that, but I feel I would be reproaching them for their happiness, which I could never do. They are so good to me and Lizzy has spoken to me a few times, but I am sometimes too ashamed to admit my feelings to her."

Kitty leaned forward and placed her hand over her friend's. "Your confidences are safe with me. And I think you shall find love soon, Georgiana. But until you find someone who deserves you, you need never fear that you will lack those who cherish you. I know how much your brother and Lizzy love you, and you will always be my dearest friend."

"I am so glad we are finally here. It is so good to see you Kitty," whispered Georgiana, unable to speak aloud past the lump in her throat.

"We shall have the best times while you are here. You wait and see," Kitty said with a mischievous smile.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway told them that the others were returned from their evening stroll. Georgiana wiped her eyes hastily and was ready to great them with smiles when they entered.

The evening passed away with pleasant conversation and games before the party broke up for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: **

The next morning Lizzy expressed a desire to see Charlotte and, the others making no objection, the whole party, minus the babies, set off for the parsonage.

They were greeted at the door by Mr. Collins, who seemed quite overcome by the honor of a visit from the Darcys on only their second day at Rosings. His speeches went unnoticed by those towards whom they were primarily addressed. Only Richard attended to them and wondered again whether the friendship existing between his wife and sister-in-law and Mrs. Collins was important enough to dictate keeping the odious fellow around.

Elizabeth embraced her friend warmly. "It has been far too long Charlotte," she said, surveying her with a happy smile.

"Indeed Eliza. Far too long," agreed Mrs. Collins.

The party went inside, but soon the majority adjourned to the garden, where Mr. Collins voice was less resounding and the quarters less cramped. Lizzy and Charlotte remained inside to chat.

Elizabeth was pleased to find that managing her own house had not yet lost all its charm for Charlotte, and that in her little Henrietta, now three years old, she found even greater delight. Her happiness was of a quiet kind and Lizzy knew her husband's company must be irksome—but she showed no sign of serious distress and Lizzy was relieved.

"Having Kitty at Rosings has been so pleasant," Charlotte said in her calm way.

"I am very, very proud of her, although I can hardly take the credit for her transformation."

"I have come to think that transformation can be encouraged by others, but it must come entirely from the person themselves," Charlotte said, with a glance toward the window, from whence Mr. Collins' voice could still be faintly heard.

"I think you are right," said Lizzy, bending to fetch Henrietta's little ball, which had rolled under her chair. "And different people respond differently to assistance and encouragement. We can only try our best," she added, trying to show her friend once again that she did not ridicule her for her husband's folly.

"Quite," Charlotte agreed. Henrietta climbed into her mother's lap and Charlotte said more cheerfully, "I have yet to meet your littlest boy. And William must be quite large now."

"Yes, you must come up to Rosings and meet them tomorrow," Lizzy said, "I am sure Kitty will invite you herself when she comes in."

The conversation being now turned to safer topics, the ladies chatted pleasantly for another quarter of an hour, upon which Charlotte rose to call for tea, as the group in the garden appeared to be returning.

* * *

Darcy preceded the others inside and found Mrs. Collins just rising to call for tea. He bowed and Charlotte exited the room.

Lizzy looked up at her husband as he stood before her chair. "I remember the last time I sat here and you stood there," she whispered, smiling through a sudden mist in her eyes.

"The memory of it ought to be very painful to me," he replied, taking her hands and lifting her to her feet. "But I am so far resigned to my state as the happiest of men, that I no longer feel the guilt that I should for my ill behavior in this room which ought to have deprived me forever of the felicity which I now know."

"You suggest for yourself a punishment far beyond the gravity of your offence," Lizzy objected. "But I am glad it no longer pains you to think of it. In my mind, the present state of affairs is so happy that I could not stay gloomy even if I chose to dwell on the past, which as you know I hate doing."

"Indeed, you once told me to think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."

"I was half in jest I hope, for how else would we learn from our mistakes. But to dwell on it unnecessarily does seem foolish to me."

The sound of Mr. Collins voice in the hall brought them back to the present quickly.

"Some things never change, do they," remarked Lizzy with a quiet laugh. Darcy grimaced and she laid her hand on his arm comfortingly. "We shall not stay much longer I fancy," she reassured him.

Mr. Collins was speaking to Georgiana. "These windows give the prospect of the daffodils which I bought from a local farmer—for a very good price I might add—in the spring. Tell me if you have ever seen finer daffodils Miss Darcy."

"Never Sir," she answered, with only a slight smile.

"Your dedication to your garden is admirable Mr. Collins," Lizzy added, her eyes sparkling with merriment.

"Ah… It is very kind of you to say so Cousin Elizabeth. I may, I trust, still take the liberty of addressing you as Cousin Elizabeth?" A gracious nod from the lady showed that she did not object and Mr. Collins continued without paused for breath, "I do pride myself on my skill in cultivating the Lord's flora and I flatter myself that I have a natural taste as to its arrangement, which taste my dear Charlotte also possesses to an astonishing degree. We are always of the same mind as to the laying out of the garden."

"You are very fortunate to agree so well on such an important subject," Lizzy said with every appearance of earnestness, for with Charlotte out of the room she felt free to tease her cousin a little, knowing he would never suspect it.

Richard heard her and grinned. He was glad that Lizzy at least, could find something to enjoy about Mr. Collins society.

Charlotte reentered, followed by the servant with the tea tray. The tea was drunk and the party from Rosings left the parsonage, leaving behind them an invitation from Kitty for the Collins' to dine with them the following day.

"It shall only have to be once or twice while you are here," Kitty said, with a slightly anxious look at Mr. Darcy, when they were well away from the house.

"Your sense of delicacy in inviting them is an admirable quality Kitty," Darcy said, smiling at her with genuine appreciation.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "I do want you to enjoy your stay."

"I am enjoying myself greatly," he responded, taking Georgiana's arm as she came up alongside him. "I am very pleased with the work you and Richard have done here."

"He does work very hard, especially since our steward left for America in February. He had always wanted to go it seems and had finally saved up enough. Richard could not refuse him. We have had no luck yet in finding a replacement," Kitty said, turning to look at her husband, who walked a few paces behind them alongside Elizabeth. He caught her eye and smiled, as he and Elizabeth quickened their pace to catch up to the other three.

Kitty remembered a time when the sight of Elizabeth and Richard walking together would have filled her with jealousy. Today she understood that their closeness was truly that of brother and sister, now that Richard no longer envied Darcy his happiness. Richard and Elizabeth shared the same sense of humor and love of fun. Far be it from her to begrudge them that.

Richard offered Kitty his arm and Lizzy took her husband's free one. Sparrows darted among the trees and a hawk soared high over-head. Elizabeth's laugh rang out merrily.

* * *

A fortnight passed away in various happy pursuits. There were boating trips on the lake and pleasant picnics in the orchard. Three happy days were spent at Ramsgate, where Kitty as well as William and Cathy saw the blue expanse of the ocean for the first time. They had the beaches almost to themselves, it being too early in the year for sea bathing.

Richard watched, joy filling his heart, as Georgiana and Kitty ran along the water's edge, laughing while William toddled along behind them, his father close as his heels to keep him from tumbling into the water. Lizzy, sitting on a blanket where James and Louis lay, laughed too as she watched the fun, even while she reached out and deftly stopped Cathy from pouring sand into her curls.

Once Lizzy ran a race herself and when she had crossed the finish line she fell into Darcy's arms, panting.

"I am an old married woman," she complained laughingly. I simply cannot run as I used to."

"Permit me to suggest that you leave the racing to those whose sons are not about to consume a fistful of shells," Richard advised, taking the objectionable articles from Louis, who had managed to crawl to the edge of the blanket and grasp at the sand beyond.

"What a sensible suggestion. Fitzwilliam, I think your cousin might finally be learning prudence and to take responsibility seriously," Elizabeth teased as she let go her husband's arm and sank down on the blanket.

"Perhaps so, or perhaps he simply has the common sense, which comes with the use of reason, to know that shells are not meant to be consumed," Darcy suggested with a smile.

"You are not to be pleased, are you?" Richard asked, half annoyedly, half in fun.

"On the contrary. I am very pleased that you know not to feed sea shells to children."

Richard threw a handful of wet sand at him and he jumped aside. Kitty laughed and Richard, feeling that his honor was somewhat at stake, began to pelt Darcy with more of the wet missiles so readily available to him.

Darcy returned fine for coarse, the sand at the water's edge being of a finer grain, and a battle was soon underway.

"Not near the children!" Lizzy exclaimed and the battle moved off down the shore.

"One of them will get sand in their eyes," Kitty said practically.

"Let them play," Lizzy said comfortably. "They will have to go back to the business of men soon enough."

She could not know then just how true her words were, or how quickly they would come to pass.

* * *

One morning, shortly after their return from Ramsgate, the Fitzwilliams and Darcys were gathered around the table, preparing to partake of a hearty breakfast.

A footman entered and bowed.

"An express just arrived from Yorkshire, Sir," he said, laying an envelope on the table by Richard's place.

"Thank you, John." Then to the others, "You will pardon me for leaving you, but I must read this," lifting the letter. "Pray do not wait for me."

Richard left the room and the others began to eat. A few minutes later he returned quietly. His face was very white and his hands shook a little.

"What is it Richard?" asked Kitty, catching sight of his face, alarm evident in her voice.

Everyone turned to look at him and Darcy stood up quickly and moved to his side while everyone else remained frozen in their seats. Wordlessly, Richard held out the letter to Darcy whose fingers closed around it almost unconsciously, his eyes still fastened on his cousin's ashen face.

"Shall I read it aloud?" he asked quietly, as Kitty rose to hurry and kneel beside Richard who had sat down heavily.

"Go ahead," Richard replied in calm voice which contrasted strongly with his haggard face.

Darcy began to read slowly.

_"To Richard Fitzwilliam… Earl of Matlock… greetings."_

A gasp arose from the other occupants of the room at this opening, but no one spoke, and Darcy continued slowly.

_"It is our unfortunate duty to inform you that your father and elder brother, the Earl and heir apparent respectively, were killed…" Darcy's voice faltered and Kitty gripped Richard's arm tightly, "in an accident involving a runaway team of horses. Your brother having no son, the estate passes directly to you. If you will come to Matlock we will make all the necessary legal arrangements for your possession. _

_"We regret to be the bearer of such distressing news and remain, yours sincerely, Morrison and company, attorney at law." _

Silence descended on the room.

Elizabeth, never at a loss for words for long, was the first to break the silence. "I am very sorry for your great loss Richard. I can only imagine what you must be feeling."

Kitty, still kneeling at his side, looked up at her husband. "Richard?" she questioned gently.

He roused himself with a slight shake. "I thank you all for your sympathy. Please excuse me." He rose and went to the door. As he passed Darcy he gave him a faint smile. "Don't worry Darcy. I just need a minute to let it sink in."

At the door, with his hand on the nob, he paused. "Kitty?" he asked. "Will you come please?"

Sudden light leaped into her eyes and she rose from the floor and hurried to him. She wanted him to want and need her even in his deepest grief, and he did.

Richard took her hand and led her out and down the corridor to his rooms. He sat down on the couch and motioned to her to sit beside him. Kitty complied and they remained there in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Richard said, "I loved my father, and I think he loved me. But his preference did me more harm than good because it made Robert fear for his inheritance. We were never close. But he was my brother and I am ashamed of feeling so little grief for him. I fear it is all for my father."

"You never asked for his enmity. You have nothing to reproach yourself with," Kitty said earnestly.

"I never tried to reconcile—"

"Richard Fitzwilliam, this mentality must end," Kitty interrupted sharply. "You always insist on blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong in this world. According to Lizzy it runs in your family, but I refuse to sit quietly by and listen to such talk."

Richard stared at her in shock and then in fascination as her blue eyes flashed dangerously. "Would you not have me take responsibility for my actions?"

"For your actions yes, but not for those of everyone you know. Grieve for your brother if you can… but do not blame yourself for what was caused by—I hate to speak ill of the dead, but it is true—his selfish behavior."

"I cannot say that you are right without sounding self-complacent."

"Then let us simply say no more about it."

"You haven't spoken to me like that in some time."

"I am sorry darling, for sounding so angry," Kitty exclaimed penitently. "Especially when you are suffering so acutely. But I cannot retract my statements. I love you, Richard and I will not see you abuse yourself so."

He looked at her silently, then, "What would I do without you Kitty?"

He drew her close and she laid her head on his chest.

After a few moments of silence had passed, Richard spoke again. "Tell me," he said, and Kitty knew it cost him something to speak so lightly, and that he did it for her sake. "How shall you like being Lady Catherine, Countess of Matlock?"

* * *

A/N: Ask and you shall receive. ;) You see I haven't forgotten all the requests to have Richard and Kitty become Earl and Countess of Matlock.

Thank you to all those who reviewed Chapter 1 and followed or favorited this story. Your support is very much appreciated. :)

(Note: Thank you to Irina who left such a helpful review on this chapter about the correct titles for Richard and Kitty. Titles have always confused me, even when I've tried to research them, and I really appreciate any help I can get. I changed a few things in accordance with my new information but I'm leaving the last sentence of this chapter as is. I am aware that Lady Catherine is not the correct title for Kitty as an earl's wife. I had Richard call her that intentionally as a sort of joke because of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's comments on Kitty's lowly rank in my first story and the fact that Kitty now has a higher rank than her.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: June 1817 **

The following morning Darcy, Richard and Kitty set off for Yorkshire to attend the funeral and view the estate, which Kitty had yet to see and from which the two gentlemen had been long absent.

Elizabeth and Georgiana stayed at Rosings with the children, which eased Kitty's mind greatly.

The travelers reached their destination in due course and Elizabeth received a letter from her husband telling her of their safe arrival.

The funeral took place the following day and after it was over Richard walked with Kitty around the family graveyard.

"This is my mother's grave. She passed away nearly eight years ago after a short illness. She was a lovely woman. I wish you could have known her."

Kitty tightened her hand on his arm. "I would have liked that very much," she murmured, and he pressed her hand silently.

He showed her other graves—that of a little sister, who been called to Heaven while still in her infancy, and that of his brother's wife, who had died, childless, at the age of thirty-six. A graveyard always brings a feeling of awe, a remembrance of our own mortality, and Kitty thanked God with tears of gratitude that she had been spared such grief in her own close family.

The next morning, they walked all over the great house and Kitty was a little awed by the huge rooms, much larger than those at Rosings Park. The house was larger than Pemberley even, but older and slightly less well kept up.

"This is a lovely view," Kitty said, pointing out of an upper window towards a mountain in the distance.

"Yes," agreed Richard, coming to stand beside her. "You know Darcy and I once climbed all the way to that plateau up there. Is it not so Darcy?"

"We did," his cousin returned. "It was your idea as I recall, and when you accidentally dropped the basket with our dinner in it off a steep ledge I nearly pushed you off after it; I was so tired and hungry."

"I practically had to drag you the last three miles home," Richard added.

"I was eight and you were nearly eleven."

"Ah well. Most of our adventures were more pleasant than that one. You visited nearly every summer as I recall."

"When my mother was alive the visits were indeed often. After she was gone, there were not so many as before."

"Shall you like to visit here every summer again, Mr. Darcy?" Kitty asked him.

He turned to read her face. "Yes, I think I should like that very much."

Richard, who could read her face without looking, said firmly, "Do not get ahead of yourself Kitty. We don't know yet quite what we are to do."

"I know, and I will remain open to the various possibilities. But Richard, I should like to have a home that we can stay at forever. We have made Rosings a home, but it is not truly _our _home. Matlock would be truly ours. And then there is the fact that it is so near to my sisters while Kent is so very far away from them."

"I understand Kitty and I am very happy that you like it here," Richard said more gently.

"I do like it. But I have grown attached to Rosings too. I shall be happy in any case, so long as I am with you."

Richard smiled tenderly at her and Darcy turned away discreetly.

"I think I shall have another look at the stables," he said briskly. "Shall you be ready to leave in two hours as we planned?"

"What? Oh, yes certainly. Right Kitty?"

"Yes," she agreed brightly.

"Then I shall see you shortly." Darcy left them to themselves.

* * *

On leaving the stables three quarters of an hour later, Darcy saw Matlock's steward, Mr. Bartlett, just leaving the great house.

Mr. Bartlett had greeted the new Lord and Lady Matlock and their cousin very warmly on their arrival and expressed his sympathy for the loss of the Earl and Viscount. Darcy knew that this was simply what any man who wished to keep his place would do, but he had been further impressed with the man's good sense and wisdom on the occasion of a meeting between the steward and his new employer, during the first evening of their stay, at which he had been present.

Darcy quickened his steps so that he met the man while he was still on the drive.

"Good afternoon Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bartlett, who had a kind smile and slightly graying hair, greeted him respectfully.

"Good afternoon to you as well sir," Darcy returned pleasantly.

"I just stopped in to wish Lord and Lady Matlock a safe and speedy journey back to Kent and may I extend the same to you sir."

"Thank you," Darcy replied. "I believe we are to leave in a little over an hour."

"Should you like to come up to the farmhouse while you wait sir? Mrs. Bartlett would be happy to invite you in and offer you a cup of tea."

Darcy glanced towards the big house. Then, "Yes, that sounds very pleasant."

"It's just up the road sir, not a quarter of a mile. I'm walking there myself, will you join me?"

"Gladly."

As the two gentlemen walked up the road together, Mr. Darcy questioned Mr. Bartlett further on the workings of the estate and found him to be even more knowledgeable than his own steward at Pemberley, as to the working of the land and business of running a large estate.

The farmhouse, where the stewards of Matlock had resided for many years, was a large one and there was a fine garden in the front, and ivy climbing up the grey stones which gave the house a comfortable, enduring, homelike air.

Three children ranging between seven and twelve years came running up and greeted their father with happy cries and impetuous embraces.

"Now, children," Mr. Bartlett chided gently, "Greet Mr. Darcy properly."

The two girls bobbed curtsies while the littlest child, a boy, clung to his father's side and looked up bashfully at the newcomer.

"My youngest," Mr. Bartlett explained, not as if he were apologizing for the boy, but simply as if no further explanation was necessary.

"What is your name?" Mr. Darcy asked, kneeling down to look the little boy in the eye.

"Tim, sir," he responded shyly.

"And how old are you Tim?"

"Seven."

"Then you are full five years older than my eldest son, quite a big lad."

Tim smiled, showing a gap in his smile where a tooth had yet to grow in.

"Come inside and meet the Mrs." Mr. Bartlett said, holding the door open hospitably for Darcy.

The front door opened into a little hall which had two doors, one opening to the kitchen, Darcy presumed, and the other to a neat, cheerful sitting room, whither Mr. Bartlett led him.

Mrs. Bartlett came from the kitchen, having been alerted by her youngsters to the presence of a visitor. She was a handsome woman, who still looked young, despite having born seven children and having worked hard for many years alongside her husband during his rise from simple farm worker to steward of a large and prosperous estate. Her hair was still golden, with only an occasional silver line, and her face was very noble and kind as she greeted Mr. Darcy warmly and offered him a chair.

The oldest daughter, a girl of about sixteen, who reminded Darcy of Georgiana at that age, brought in the tea tray and Mrs. Bartlett served her guest.

"Your home is very pleasant, Ma'am," Darcy said as he accepted the offered cup.

"You are very kind Mr. Darcy. We like to keep it open to everyone, you see," she responded, smiling cheerfully. "It is our hope that the villagers and the gentry alike can come and be made welcome here."

"You have succeeded admirably in your goal," Darcy told her.

"Ellen has worked hard to see it realized," her husband said, pride and affection evident on his steady, work-worn face. "There's not a woman in the village but would come to her for advice in time of trouble."

"Only because their husbands know they have an honest friend in you," Mrs. Bartlett protested. Then she seemed to feel that she was neglecting her guest for she turned to Darcy and asked, "Are you married sir?"

"Yes," with a smile which was all the good lady needed to know that he was happily so. "My wife Elizabeth and my two sons are in Kent at the moment, staying at Lord Matlock's present home."

"And how old are the lads?" drawing her own son to her side as she spoke.

"William is two and a half and Louis is a year old in July."

"Ah, then you don't yet know what it is to manage a great boy like my Tim here," said the mother, laughing at her son's annoyed expression. "Enjoy them while they are little sir, for if they are anything like my boys, they will be terrors when they can run about and shout." She caressed the hair of her 'terror' as she spoke and smiled in a way that showed how proud and fond she was of him.

Darcy smiled. He found himself liking the family more and more. Very evident were the father's good sense, the mother's kindness and the children's good manners, for five were now in the room, sitting or standing quietly about, listening to the adult's conversation.

Just then, there was suddenly a noise of violent coughing from the room above and Mrs. Bartlett started up quickly, and excusing herself hurriedly, left the room.

Mr. Darcy looked to Mr. Bartlett for an explanation.

He said quietly, "Our daughter, Joan. The other children are all strong and healthy, thank God. But Joan… The poor child has never been well. The Yorkshire winters are very hard on her. I've and Ellen have often talked of trying to find a place in the south, where the winters are milder. But how would I find a place that would warrant leaving Matlock? With my position here, I can keep her as warm as ever I can, and well fed. I can keep all my children well fed and clothed. How can I risk leaving this position for the unknown?"

Darcy listened attentively. "But if you had a position waiting, you would go?" he asked.

Mr. Bartlett sat quietly for a moment as another fit of coughing was heard upstairs.

"Yes," he said at last. "I'd be loathed to leave this land. But I'd do it for my Joan."

Mrs. Bartlett reappeared at this moment. "Mary is sitting with her," she explained, in answer to her husband inquiry. "Joan has been better lately. But sometimes she panics when the coughing gets bad and then she needs me." The sorrow in the mother's face and voice was marked.

"Is there aught doctors can do for her?" Darcy asked.

Mrs. Bartlett shook her head. "If we could be near a place where she could go sea bathing, the doctor says that might do her good. But there is no place near enough."

"I am sorry," Darcy said sincerely. "I don't know the pain of having a sick child but having sons of my own allows me to at least imagine it."

"May you never know it, sir," Mrs. Bartlett said earnestly.

The conversation turned to lighter matters for the remainder of the visit and another quarter of an hour passed pleasantly away before Darcy was forced to take out his watch and admit that the time for his departure was growing near. "My time grows regrettably short," he said. "But I will not forget your kind hospitality and the agreeable company I have enjoyed here."

"We are honored by your visit, sir," Mrs. Bartlett said.

Husband and wife rose with their guest and Darcy offered his hand to the one and bowed to the other, saying, "I am the one who is honored to have been invited into your lovely home. I take my leave now and offer you and your family, and especially your daughter, my best wishes for your health and happiness."

* * *

The morning after the travelers had returned to Rosings, a family council was held in the large parlor.

Darcy and Richard seated themselves in the chairs by the unlit fireplace while the three ladies arranged themselves on the long sofa opposite.

"First I'd like to thank you all for bearing with me and standing by me through this unexpected upheaval," Richard began.

"Goodness, Richard. You sound like it was a difficult decision for us to make," Lizzy said. "What else would we have done?" She began earnestly but ended more lightly.

"We are all very anxious that you and Kitty are happy," Georgiana added quietly.

Richard looked his thanks rather than said it.

Now it was Darcy's turn to speak. "I believe that your first concern should be that you now have two estates to look after. You must choose how you are best to manage them both. Have you come to any decision regarding this yet?"

"No," Richard admitted. "I confess my mind is still in shock."

"You will have to be sometimes at Matlock certainly. It is your family estate," Darcy said.

"Yes. My first instinct would be to move back there. It is my childhood home, and Yorkshire is much closer to Derbyshire than Kent. It would be a fine thing to have you so close. But what to do with Rosings then?"

Darcy was quiet, thinking.

"Would Lady Catherine perhaps take possession again?" Georgiana suggested, but timidly and without any enthusiasm.

"I don't know," Richard began. "Perhaps. But her letters have expressed great contentment with her present abode in London and I would hate to… I should not like to see the work that I am vain enough to think I have accomplished here be all undone. The people are starting to come out of their shells, they are thinking for themselves. The women can decide whether they wish to have shelves in their closets or not." Richard glanced at Lizzy who raised an eyebrow.

"I do not wish to interrupt by inquiring why you would use such a strange example to illustrate your very valid point. But my curiosity has been aroused."

"It is no interruption," Richard assured her. "Mr. Collins gave me a full tour of the parsonage when I first arrived, and the shelves were his special pride. He did not fail to inform me how delighted you were with them during your visit and how Lady Catherine knew so well what would please any lady."

Lizzy and Kitty laughed, and the Darcy siblings smiled wryly.

"However," Richard continued more seriously, "we all know that Lady Catherine did not always know what was best for people."

The thoughts of everyone in the room turned to Anne De Burgh and her early death. A shiver passed over them, almost as if Anne's ghost still haunted this room where she had sat so often. But her ghost was a benevolent one, and smiles again appeared, as all realized, however unconsciously, that Anne would be pleased with the way things were now and they had nothing to fear from her.

"Is not it true that many earls have more than one property? I do not see where the difficulty lies," Elizabeth said, looking enquiringly at the two gentlemen.

"It is no great difficulty," Richard told her. "Only decisions must be made about where we are to stay and who shall look after the place which we cannot be at. The estates are practically at opposite ends of England, too far to live at both."

"I have a proposal," Darcy said suddenly, "which you may take or leave as you like. In the end it is your decision of course."

"Please," Richard urged him to continue.

"You and Kitty both seem to favor residing at Matlock. Mr. Bartlett—the steward there," he added for Lizzy and Georgiana's benefit, "—is an honest and experienced man. He and his wife are fine people and I have reason to believe that they would not be opposed to the idea of moving to Kent. Why not write and propose to him that he move here and be Rosing's chief overseer, while you take over the running of Matlock and find another steward for it at your leisure?"

"You think he would agree to such a plan?" Richard asked.

"I think he would. His daughter is ill, and the doctor has recommended a climate with a milder winter and sea bathing. Rosings has both of those things within half a day's journey."

"That's just like you, Fitzwilliam, to find out about his daughter and come up with such a fine plan," cried Georgiana, unable to stop herself from uttering what she felt.

Darcy shifted a little uncomfortably at her words and the looks of praise that the others were giving him and said quickly, "I have a selfish motive as well. I very much wish to have you both at Matlock. Rosings is too far for the ladies to have to travel to see each other."

"I agree," Elizabeth added. "If there were ever to be trouble of any kind, the nearest kin you have here are our aunt and uncle in London, and Lady Catherine of course. I will be so happy to have you within an easy day's journey."

"Will you take Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth's good counsel, Richard?" Kitty asked, speaking for the first time, her voice hopeful.

He looked around at them all, Darcy, Kitty, Elizabeth, and Georgiana. "Yes," he said. "One would have to be a fool to turn away from such a family as I have in all of you."

* * *

A letter was soon sent to Mr. Bartlett and a response was soon received in the form of the worthy man himself, who came in person to finalize the agreement with Lord Matlock and to see the estate for himself before he took over its management. There was a good deal of emotion in his voice when he shook Mr. Darcy's hand and said, "Whatever part you played in this sir, I thank you on behalf of my Joan and my wife, who is convinced you arranged it all. I think she is not far wrong. God bless you sir."

Arrangements were soon made which would allow the Fitzwilliam family to remove to Matlock in the late summer, and they were happy in the thought that Rosings would have good people looking after it. The day on which the Darcy family must leave Rosings and return home was likewise less sad than it might have been since there was the prospect of seeing each other again in less than two months and often after that.

The Darcys arrived home at Pemberley in the last week of June. The bright green woods, the river and the plowed fields welcomed them back with open arms and all were glad to be returned to their beautiful home.

The enlargement of the stables, which had been begun the year before, was nearly completed, and Darcy was anticipating the arrival of several fine new horses to fill it, one of which he had promised to Georgiana. Thus, she too looked forward to this event with great eagerness. The summer was just beginning, and the air was full of the promise of things to come.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much to the Guest who left the link to that awesome site about the correct forms of address. It's a really great reference page and if any of you guys want to check it out I highly recommend it. And another thank you to all those who have taken the time to review, favorite and follow. :)

* * *

**Chapter 4: July 1817**

Georgiana exclaimed in delight as the horse was led from her stall and out into the stable yard. The lovely white creature arched her neck and stepped gracefully, as if she knew she was being admired.

"How beautiful she is. What is her name?"

"Fleurette," her brother replied.

"Little Flower," cried Georgiana delightedly.

Lizzy smiled a little, knowing that Georgiana had not been consciously showing off her French.

"May I ride her today?"

"I think not. Look at how skittish she is still," as Fleurette shied at the slamming of a stall door back in the stable. "She needs training before she is fit to carry a lady."

"But you know what a good rider I am."

He knew, and he was proud of her for it. "Well, I shall let you go around the yard a few times and we will see how she takes to you," he relented.

The horse was fitted with Georgiana's side saddle and Darcy helped her mount. She set off at a walk around the circular area but soon broke into a gentle canter, horse and rider moving with the same easy motion.

Lizzy watched the pair in delight and Fitzwilliam nodded appreciatively. "She rides like a Darcy," he commented dryly. "I think she can manage her."

"Where is Periwinkle?" asked Lizzy. "I think Georgiana will leave without us if we do not join her soon."

The gentle pony was brought around, and Lizzy stroked her soft nose. "We shall never be like them, with their tall horses and fine skills, but we understand each other, don't we?" she whispered. The dappled grey pony nudged at her shoulder and Elizabeth laughed.

Ulysses too, was led out and soon the threesome had headed out of the gate and off down the path, Fleurette tossing her head and trotting fast, steady Ulysses and gentle Periwinkle following at a more uniform pace.

The day was fair, and the white clouds were not foreboding as they had been last year. The weather was still cooler than usual for June, but there had been enough sunny days to ensure a harvest, albeit a moderate one, and this was enough.

They rode past the meadow sown with oats and Darcy stopped beside the wheat field to speak to the foreman.

Fleurette was still energetic and Georgiana, taking part in her excitement, began to circle the field.

The snake was gone before Georgiana could see it. All she knew was that Fleurette erupted under her like a volcano. She kept her seat, but the frightened horse took off straight across the field at breakneck speed.

Darcy saw her first and gave a startled shout, but he was too far to reach her.

The scenery was a blur before Georgiana's eyes as she pulled desperately at the horse's head trying to turn her. The reins were jerked out of her hand as she reached the end of the field. The field hands were scattering before the horse's flying hooves. All but one…

He caught her as she fell and, for the first time in her life, Georgiana felt strong, young arms which were not Fitzwilliam's holding her.

Darcy was beside her in an instant and was bending over her, concern and guilt written on every line of his face.

"Are you hurt?"

Her rescuer had lowered her to the ground but was still supporting her with one arm.

"I think I am uninjured. Do not be alarmed Fitzwilliam," she managed to say, struggling to sit up.

"Be still," Darcy commanded her.

Elizabeth had reached them now and was also kneeling beside her. Georgiana flushed, suddenly ashamed that such a fuss should be made.

"I am truly fine. It was not so very bad."

"You might have been killed Georgiana," said Darcy sternly but Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm and he finished more gently, "Can you ride back with me on my horse?"

Georgiana made another attempt to rise and was assisted by both her brother and the man who had caught her, the face of whom she had not yet had the courage to look at.

"I can ride Ulysses on my own if you will take Fleurette. Poor thing, she must have been so frightened," she said, looking around for the filly, who was being led back from the far end of the next field by one of the farmers.

"No more frightened than I was," Darcy muttered. He turned to her rescuer and said, "I cannot thank you enough Wakefield."

Georgiana raised her eyes for the barest second and caught a flash of tanned face and wavy brown hair before she lowered them again and, without a word, began walking shakily towards Ulysses.

Darcy remained where he was long enough to say, "If there is ever anything I can do for you please don't hesitate to ask." Then, lowering his voice a little, "I am sorry my sister is too shaken to thank you herself."

The youth shook his head, as if dismissing the apology. "I hope she is unhurt, that is all," he said.

Darcy offered his hand, despite its being unusual for a gentleman to offer his hand to a tenant, and the young man took it.

By this time Georgiana had mounted Ulysses, albeit with less than her usual confidence. Darcy and Elizabeth hurried to their respective mounts and then rode on either side of her, back to the house.

* * *

The next morning, Georgiana, awoke, rather stiff and sore from her rough ride and subsequent fall, but in a much more positive frame of mind.

Going downstairs, wincing a little at the ache in her back and legs which every step occasioned, she found Fitzwilliam and Lizzy in his study, for Elizabeth often liked to keep him company, while he worked there for an hour after breakfast.

"How are you feeling Georgiana?" asked Elizabeth, as Darcy rose to offer her his arm and lead her to a seat.

"Much better, thank you," she half lied. "I am sorry for causing you both so much distress."

"It was my fault Georgiana, I should never have let you ride that horse until it was properly trained," Fitzwilliam said seriously.

"And I shall ride her again tomorrow if I am allowed. I will not be frightened out of riding her ever again."

Elizabeth smiled a little, "Indeed I think you shall be able to ride her again, but perhaps not tomorrow. I think you must be rather sore."

Georgiana looked at her in surprise.

"Don't think I don't notice how you are sitting, as if equally afraid to move or relax."

Georgiana smiled although Darcy still looked grim. "A little," she admitted.

"Georgiana," began her brother. "You must promise me not to take Fleurette out until I give you leave. I will not see you so endangered again."

Georgiana looked at him defiantly for a moment. What right had he to treat her like a little girl when she was in her twentieth year? But she saw the real worry and concern in his face. She had never been able to deny him anything and she nodded slowly.

"I promise to wait until she is better trained. I hope you will not withhold me from riding her after that?"

"She shall be at your disposal as soon as she is ready," Darcy agreed.

"Thank you," Georgiana said, rising to embrace him.

"Have you eaten yet?" Lizzy inquired.

Georgiana replying in the negative, she was sent to the breakfast room, and Elizabeth and Darcy returned to their books and papers.

* * *

A week passed, and still Georgiana did not feel quite easy about her behavior after her accident. It had been abominably rude to walk off like that without thanking her rescuer.

Leaving the house quietly, while Elizabeth was in the nursery and Darcy was in Lambton for the day, she made her way to the stables. Ordering a groom to saddle a steady brown mare for her, she went over to Fleurette's stall and stroked the soft nose. Fleurette blew into her hand and nudged her arm. To Georgiana it seemed almost as if she was asking forgiveness.

"We shall be riding over the hills again soon, Little Flower," Georgiana told her, sliding her hand down along the graceful white neck. "Never you mind."

The brown mare was soon saddled, and Georgiana set off, after bidding the groom to say that she had gone for a ride about the grounds if anyone asked. She did make for the wooded paths on the west side of the house, but soon turned away from this course and headed across the wooded hill behind the house, and on down the path which eventually forked, one branch leading towards the village and the other to the east fields. Georgiana took the latter path —the one which they had taken on the morning of her accident. On her either hand the green and gold fields lay shining in the sun. Sparrows, finches and wrens flitted hither, thither and yon in the air and among the hedgerows and somewhere in the distance men were singing. As she approached the wheat field where Fleurette had bolted, she saw that there were indeed men working there as she had hoped. She drew up the mare and lifted herself slightly in the saddle, her eyes moving from worker to worker, searching.

A voice, nearly at her side, made her start and sit back with a jerk. A young man with black hair and laughing brown eyes stood grinning up at her. "Is there anything I can do for you Miss Darcy?" he repeated his inquiry.

"Oh… thank you, but I was just watching."

"Very well Miss. Good day." He tipped his cap and started off.

"Wait a moment," Georgiana called after him, wishing very much that she had spoken earlier. "Can you tell me where Mr. Wakefield is to be found?"

The brown eyes laughed again. "Aye Miss." Then, "Nathaniel!" Georgiana winced at his shout. "There's someone to see you."

Every one of the ten or twelve men in the field looked up, and one of them laid down his tool and came forwards. His steps were neither quick or slow, but steady and purposeful.

When Nathaniel had approached, the brown eyed lad said, "Here's your man. Good day Miss Darcy," and walked off, whistling a merry tune.

Nathaniel moved around to stand by the horse's side and took a hold of the bridle, although there was little fear of her running.

"Mr. Wakefield?" Georgiana asked uncertainly, not knowing how to begin.

He looked up at her then, and she could see him clearly for the first time. He was no more than twenty-five, almost as tall as Fitzwilliam. He did not wear a tie in the July heat and his shirt was open at the throat. His eyes... The bluest she had ever seen. They were the deep blue of the sky above a brilliant sunset—a dark, clear azure with depths that mere sight could not fathom.

He smiled, a bright smile, inviting friendship, and for a moment Georgiana longed to give it. When had she ever had a friend, outside of her own family?

"Good afternoon Miss Darcy," deferentially.

"Good afternoon."

He stood, quietly looking up at her and she realized it was for her to speak. "I believe that I never thanked you for your assistance the other day. Forgive me… I was very shaken… and please accept my gratitude now." She spoke rather primly, afraid of appearing childish and shy.

"I am happy that you have recovered. But no thanks are necessary, Miss Darcy," he replied seriously, as he gently rubbed the horse's neck.

"Nevertheless, I wish to thank you," Georgiana pressed and then stopped.

He bowed a little—certainly not with the grace of someone accustomed to doing it—but with no clumsiness or awkwardness in his manner.

"I shall bid you good day then," Georgiana said in what she hoped was a dignified yet friendly tone.

"God keep you," he returned her farewell courteously.

Georgiana turned to mount, and Nathaniel stepped forwards to assist her into the saddle. A moment later he had handed her the reins, nodded respectfully, and set off in the direction of his work.

"So, what did the lady want?" drawled the brown eyed youth, laughter again in his eyes.

"I did her a small service last week and she wished to thank me."

"Last week? Well it took her long enough to say a simple thank you."

"She didn't need to come at all Tom," returned Nathaniel as he picked up his hoe again.

Tom turned to look after Georgiana as she disappeared up the road. "She's always been a handsome girl, but that's the first time I've got close enough to see just how handsome she's got. She'll make some Lord or Earl a fine wife."

"Indeed," replied Nathaniel shortly as he returned to his work.

Riding up the road, back towards the house, Georgiana felt a confliction of emotions which were entirely unreasonable given the trivialness of the situation.

Something in the way he had smiled, in his blue, blue eyes, in his voice, had been… different. He had spoken to her calmly, without any attempt to flatter her, but with a sincere desire for her wellbeing—like Fitzwilliam or Richard might. There was a warm feeling in the center of her heart, contrasting with the coldness in her fingers, for they were cold despite the heat of the July day. It was very strange.


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: This chapter contains illness and death. While I do not go into great detail, I know these topics can be upsetting to some people and I don't want anyone to go in without being forewarned.

* * *

**Chapter 5: August 1817**

Darcy and Georgiana were in the library, while Elizabeth was upstairs with the little boys, when a maid entered and said, "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wakefield from the village is here and asking for you."

"Wakefield, what can he need?" Darcy asked in surprise as he rose to follow the servant out of the room.

Something prompted Georgiana to rise from her seat and follow too. The servant led them down to the back entrance where Nathaniel stood, holding his hat in his hand.

"Mr. Darcy, sir," he greeted his employer with a respectful nod. Georgiana however, looking past her brother's shoulder, saw the desperate worry in the blue eyes.

"What can I do for you, Wakefield?" Darcy enquired with a businesslike tone.

Georgiana directed an angry glance at her brother's broad back, wondering at his speaking so coldly when the man was obviously distressed.

But Nathaniel seemed to pull himself together suddenly. He lifted his head and spoke in an equally firm voice.

"Mr. Darcy, a fortnight ago you told me that you would do anything you could to assist me had I need of you. I hate to beg help of anyone, but I have a favor I must ask."

"Will you step into my office and tell me what the trouble is?" Fitzwilliam spoke as he turned and motioned Georgiana to leave them.

She turned and retraced her steps down the corridor as the two men followed behind at a distance. When they reached the stairway, Georgiana turned up it reluctantly, while her brother and Mr. Wakefield continued on to the former's office.

"My request will not take long I hope," Nathaniel began when the office door had closed behind him. "But it is of the utmost importance to me. My mother has been very sick for some time now. Dr. Reeves has come several times, but he says there is nothing he can do. Would you—would you have a London doctor fetched for her? I cannot afford it, but I can't let her go without knowing I did everything I could. There may be some new medicine or treatment that they know of in London. I will pay you back, sir, within the next few months."

"Wakefield, I would do as much for any one of my tenants as well you know, let alone one who had perhaps saved my sister's life. Please, do not concern yourself a moment more about the money. If you will not accept it as a payment of a debt take it as a loan with no stipulations." He touched the bell on his desk. "And now, I shall send for a doctor at once. Can you tell me what her illness is that I may better know who to send for?"

Darcy had pulled out a sheet of paper as he spoke and began writing out a short note. He paused with his pen poised above the paper while Nathaniel answered.

"Dr. Reeves says it is a form of consumption."

"How long has she been ill?"

"She fell sick two winters ago, and then last summer she seemed to be well again, despite the weather. But this past winter she grew worse again and the summer has brought no change. She has been steadily fading since Christmas."

Darcy tried to hide his hopelessness. He knew there was almost no hope of a recovery from such a disease of such duration. But he would not be the one to begrudge this young man the small comfort of knowing he had tried everything and nothing more could be done.

A servant entered in response to the bell and Darcy signed his name to the note and gave the servant instructions as to its being sent by post as soon as possible.

"Would you allow me to inform my wife of Mrs. Wakefield's illness?" Darcy asked after the servant had gone. "She will surely wish to come and do what she can to assist you and your mother in this difficult time."

"If you wish it sir. I should not like to cause Mrs. Darcy any trouble."

"I guarantee that she will be at your house within the next twenty-four hours," Darcy said with a slight smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy winced. The lad was only thanking him for getting another doctor to tell him there was no hope for his mother. He felt he deserved small thanks for such a service. But he held out his hand and Nathaniel grasped it.

He walked with him to the front door and saw him out, with final assurances that a London doctor would arrive within the week.

Then he turned and went up to Elizabeth.

"Is anything the matter Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked. "Georgiana tells me that Mr. Wakefield was here and seemed most distressed."

"He came to see about a doctor for his mother," and in a few minutes he had acquainted her with the case.

"I shall go visit the poor woman at once," Elizabeth said earnestly when he had finished.

"May I come too Lizzy?" Georgiana asked timidly. "I should like to do something to help."

Elizabeth looked at her husband and he nodded slowly. "Yes, she may go."

"Shall I ask Mrs. Reynolds to get a basket of things together?" Georgiana asked.

"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth replied with a grateful smile.

When Georgiana had gone, Elizabeth said, "You are right to let her go. I know that your father's death made you want to shield her from seeing anything that might remind her. But you cannot shield her forever."

"I only wish I could."

"I know you do," rising from her chair and coming to sit on his knee.

"I try to do the right thing by her," Darcy said earnestly as he put his arms around her and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

* * *

The Wakefield's cottage was small, but well built, as all of Darcy's tenant's homes were, and neatly kept within.

When Elizabeth had knocked, the door had been opened by the village midwife, Mrs. Moore, who explained that for the last few weeks she had been staying with the sick woman for a few hours every day while Nathaniel was at work in the fields.

Georgiana stood quietly by the door, while Lizzy, after exchanging a few more hushed words with Mrs. Moore, crossed the room and disappeared into the little bedroom beyond.

"Come Miss Darcy. There's no need to hang back so," said Mrs. Moore kindly, and Georgiana followed her to the door of the small room.

Elizabeth was sitting in a chair by a low bed, listening attentively while Mrs. Wakefield, who lay propped up with several pillows, was speaking softly. "I know I shan't last long. But he would not be dissuaded. He has always been so careful of me. He's never given up hope that I shall get better. I am not afraid for myself, Mrs. Darcy… but I worry… what it will do to him to lose me."

"He will have friends," said Lizzy.

"That is a comfort to me," the sick woman responded. "But he will likely take it very hard…"

Lizzy saw that she was becoming emotional, her breathing was quick and shallow, and her thin hands trembled a little.

"You must try to stay calm, dear Mrs. Wakefield," she said. "Or else you will be worse, and you should not like to worry your son more than he already is, when he comes home."

"No, you are right," settling back into the pillows. She lay very quiet for a few moments and then said, "I never thanked you properly for coming, Mrs. Darcy."

"There is no need for that kind of talk," Lizzy assured her gently. "I am very happy to do what I can, little as it is."

"And Miss Darcy is here too?" feebly turning her head towards the doorway where Georgiana stood quietly.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, beckoning her sister closer.

"I am sorry you are unwell," Georgiana said, timidity and compassionate kindness struggling for the mastery of her voice.

The sick woman looked at her for a long moment. There was a strange expression on her face—almost as if she saw some secret which only time would reveal, written in the depths of the girl's dark eyes.

Georgiana felt the penetrating look, but she did not know what it meant, and she drew back a little, confused.

But Mrs. Wakefield smiled suddenly, and her smile, though weak, was like her son's in its warmth. "I thank you for your sympathy Miss Darcy. You are a very sweet girl—though I may hardly call you that, for you are quite a grown woman now."

"Yes, she is, although her brother would not like to admit it," Lizzy said, sharing a smile with Georgiana, pleased that the sick woman was taking a cheerful interest in something.

But Mrs. Wakefield's next words were more pensive than cheerful. "A brother's love should not be taken lightly." She was quiet a moment and then said, seemingly unconnectedly, "You wish to marry for love Miss Darcy, do you not?" And then, as if recollecting herself, "Forgive a sick woman's impertinence."

"Yes, I wish to marry for love. Who does not?" Georgiana replied, frowning a little, though not through offense at the woman's question, it was through wonder that this frail woman seemed to know or guess something about her that she herself did not know. "But I do not yet have any idea of when such happiness is to be mine," she continued, speaking more lightly. "No one has yet offered it to me freely."

"Even love freely given comes with a cost. But real love is so precious that it is almost always worth the price, however high it may be."

Georgiana wondered if the woman was babbling deliriously now, although she seemed quite calm. She glanced at Elizabeth, but she was listening with close attention.

"Would you accept love, no matter the cost?" Mrs. Wakefield asked, turning her eyes to Georgiana again.

"No matter the cost," Georgiana repeated slowly.

"That is well," said Mrs. Wakefield, leaning back with a sigh and closing her eyes, her small strength seemingly quite exhausted.

The ladies waited another five minutes, but she did not move, and it seemed as if she slept. Her shallow breathing could be heard in the still room.

Elizabeth and Georgiana left quietly. Neither spoke, during the walk home. There seemed to be something fragile in the silence, which should not be and was not broken.

In the time that followed, Georgiana thought often of that strange conversation, but she would not understand it until much later.

* * *

Five days later, Darcy accompanied his wife and sister down to the village, and when they arrived, they saw that there was a carriage standing outside the Wakefield's cottage and that the London doctor must be within.

They entered the room in time to catch the doctor's last words to Nathaniel, who stood listening, motionless.

"—nothing I can do besides give her an opiate for the pain."

Nathaniel nodded quietly.

The doctor went back into the other room and, in five minutes, returned with his hat and bag in hand.

"She is not conscious at the moment, but I have left instructions with your neighbor, Mrs. Moore, as to the opiate's administration. I am sorry that I cannot do more for her lad," he said, laying a kind hand on Nathaniel's shoulder.

"How… long does she have?" he asked in a low voice.

"There is no knowing exactly how long of course," the doctor replied. "But no more than two weeks, I should say."

He left the house and Darcy accompanied him out. Nathaniel disappeared into the bedroom.

When Darcy reentered the house and gave Elizabeth a sad nod, she went into the bedroom and bent over Nathaniel, who sat staring at the thin figure in the bed.

"We shall come back in two or three days, Mr. Wakefield, and see how she is."

"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy." The words were simply and quietly spoken, but the blue eyes were very earnest as they looked up into her womanly face with an open, trusting gaze, almost childlike in its frankness.

Lizzy held out her hand to him. He rose quickly and took it and she gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

He followed her out into the larger room where the others stood.

"The fact that the doctor cannot save her–" Nathaniel's voice faltered but he continued resolutely, "–does not lessen my gratitude for your help, sir," he told Darcy.

"I am truly sorry that there is nothing further I can do. If I could, I would do it," Darcy replied. There was a husky undertone to his voice and Georgiana knew he was likely thinking of the deaths of their own parents and rebelling once more against the fact that he had been powerless to save them.

Nathaniel bowed slightly in acknowledgment. Darcy bid him goodbye and he returned the farewell respectfully.

Georgiana felt she should say something too. "Goodbye," she hesitated.

"Goodbye Miss Darcy." Nathaniel bowed to her and she followed Elizabeth and Darcy out the door.

* * *

It was three days later that Lizzy came into Georgiana's room, wearing one of her simplest dresses and carrying a basket. "I am leaving for the village, Georgiana," she said.

Something in Lizzy's tone made Georgiana look up quickly. "Is… is she worse?"

"Yes, dear. She is," Lizzy said quietly. "This will likely be our last visit while Mrs. Wakefield lives."

Georgiana shook her head to check the tears which threatened to spring to her eyes and said, "I shall be ready in just a moment," at the same time jumping up and hurrying to fetch her bonnet.

When she reappeared, Elizabeth laid a hand on her arm and said softly, "You don't have to come Georgiana."

Georgiana looked at her, hurt written on her face. "You don't think I am strong enough to stand it, do you?"

"I don't doubt your strength. But it may be very hard dear. I only want to spare you."

"I am coming," Georgiana said shortly.

Lizzy smiled. "I thought you would say that. You may have to be very brave, my darling. God bless you."

Darcy had gone to Kent, to assist Richard and Kitty in the move to Matlock and was not expected back for a week. Thus, the two ladies walked down to the village alone.

Georgiana felt strong when they left the house together, but as they drew nearer the village her courage began to fail her. "Stop acting like a child," she told herself angrily. But her knees shook, and she had to clench her hands to keep them from trembling as they approached the open door of the cottage.

The sickbed had been moved to the larger room, where what little breeze as could be found in the sticky August air could slip in through the door and two windows. Nathaniel was sitting by the bed where the wasted figure lay very still under the light blanket.

He looked up when they entered, and it was clear he had not slept the night before. His hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes were exhausted. He had not changed his clothes and his shirt was wrinkled.

Lizzy laid a kind hand on his shoulder and he spoke quietly to her.

Georgiana moved closer and was able to catch the words, "Very hard night…" and then, "doctor… won't last the day." Lizzy murmured something back and Nathaniel nodded.

Georgiana stepped back and moved to the table, where she sat down uncertainly. Lizzy stood quietly in a corner.

They waited. It was very hot, and the air was heavy. The sick woman's breathing was labored.

Georgiana tried to pray, but her thoughts were confused, and her prayers were incoherent accordingly.

As the hour passed the woman on the bed stirred and moved a feeble hand, so thin that Georgiana thought she could see the bones through the transparent skin.

Nathaniel was alert in a moment and took the weakened hand in his own young and strong one.

"Nathaniel…" the mother whispered.

"I am here."

"You have always been a good lad," she said in a low, quivering voice, barely louder a whisper. "I am glad I have the peace which comes of knowing you have become a good man."

"Mother," he broke in, but she hushed him.

"No, Nathaniel. I will say it. There is no sweeter comfort a woman can have then knowing her child will do well…" There was a pause as she struggled for breath. "…even when she is not there to guide him."

"I will try to always be as you would like to think of me, Mother."

"Then be happy, Nathaniel, when I am gone."

He shook his head.

"I would want you to be happy," her voice quivering, "and not grieve too bitterly for me."

He bowed his head over her hands. He could not speak.

"God bless you, my son… my boy," the mother whispered, her eyes suddenly wet with tears that pain could not wring from her frail body.

Nathaniel sat by the bed in silence, still holding her hands in his own. Lizzy leaned against the wall, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

The chaplain entered and began the prayers for the dying.

Georgiana watched from someplace outside her body. In later years, when she looked back on the scene, she could see herself as well as the other occupants of the room, as if she had observed it all from someplace near the low wooden ceiling.

She watched a woman die. And she watched as a piece of Nathaniel died too. She watched him as he gently closed his mother's eyes and placed a last kiss on her pain-lined forehead, his soul on his lips. She watched as he still sat unmoving beside the bed after the doctor had gone. She saw the clouded look in his beautiful eyes as he lifted his head to look at Lizzy when she spoke to him and caressed his head as she would William's or Louis'.

Tears clouding her own eyes, Georgiana left without saying a word to him. She couldn't, for if she had she would have thrown her arms about his neck and mingled her tears with his.

* * *

The next day, the body was prepared for burial. Lizzy and Georgiana came again, and Georgiana found that the dead body was not repulsive as she had feared but rather something sacred to be handled with awe. It was the chalice in which a soul, now taken flight, had dwelt and it must be reverenced accordingly.

"I am going to step out and speak to Mrs. Moore for a moment," Lizzy said quietly to Georgiana, in a moment where they were the only two in the small room. "Will you be alright?"

"Yes, of course." Georgiana nodded.

Lizzy left and Georgiana was alone with the body. It was dressed in white, and there was a peaceful expression on the still face. But Georgiana felt that something was missing. Reaching up, she unpinned from her bonnet a white rose which she had cut in the morning. Gently, she placed it in the folded hands.

She was reminded of a song, _The Last Rose of Summer_, from a book which Fitzwilliam had bought her for her seventeenth birthday*, and began to hum it softly, sadly. A tear slipped from her eye and she turned away, only to see Nathaniel standing in the doorway. The melody died on her lips, but he smiled faintly and came to stand beside her. A comforting silence rested between them which neither cared to break.

But a neighbor soon entered and whispered to Nathaniel that the minister was coming. Nathaniel nodded and prepared to follow him out. In the doorway he paused and looked back. He did not say anything, but his blue eyes met Georgiana's dark ones in a frank, earnest gaze.

She bowed her head in acknowledgement and when she had the courage to look up again, he was gone.

* * *

*Fun Fact: _The Last Rose of Summer _was first published in December 1813 in volume 5 of Thomas Moore's _A Selection of Irish Melodies_.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter was so sad. :( I just recently realized that this story is going to be a lot angstier than its predecessor. It won't get much sadder than this though, so if you got through this you can get through it all. I also promise a happy ending. :)

I did put a lot of time into this chapter and I'd love your feedback on it. Thank you for all your amazing support!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: September 1817**

A little less than a month had gone by since Mrs. Wakefield's funeral. Life at Pemberley continued as it always had, but Georgiana alone of all the inhabitants of the great house, was restless and unable to settle into her usual routine.

One afternoon she was sitting by a window in the sitting room with a book in her hand, trying to catch what breeze she could, for the early September day was very warm. She was attempting to read, but she could not focus on the meaning of the words and she kept dropping the book on the windowsill while she stared out at nothing in particular, drumming her fingers on the woodwork. In this attitude Elizabeth found her.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth addressed her, "I need someone to go to the village and pick up the yarn that Mrs. Stilton is preparing for me. I was going to send Molly or one of the footmen, but I wondered if you should like to go instead."

"Of course I shall go if you wish it Lizzy," Georgiana said, straightening up in her seat.

"I think a walk would do you good, Georgiana. I would go myself, but Louis's molars are still paining him so much that I shouldn't like to leave the house even for an hour in case he should need me."

"I shall start at once," Georgiana said, relieved at the thought of something useful to do which would also take her to the place where her thoughts wandered most frequently of late.

"If you should see Mr. Wakefield, be sure to stop and enquire how he is," Elizabeth added.

"Yes Lizzy," Georgiana called, already half way out of the room.

She reached the village in a half hour's walk and her errand was soon completed. With the yarn safely in her handbag, she began to walk back up the street. Her pace was rather slow, and her eyes searched among the villagers eagerly, looking for a pair of deep blue eyes in a young, tanned face.

Nathaniel Wakefield was not to be seen however and she left the village with a disappointed sigh.

When she reached the fork, she paused. Lizzy had said to seek out Mr. Wakefield, hadn't she? She hesitated another moment and then, turning away from the path back to the house, began walking quickly down the path towards the east fields.

When she had not nearly reached the field she saw that the men were coming back from their day's work. They stepped aside and touched their caps respectfully as she passed. She had not the courage to search their faces for the one which she desired to find and so she walked quietly by them and on up the road.

Then a smile lit her face, for Nathaniel was coming towards her, last of the men to leave the fields. His walk was weary, but he smiled his warm smile as he caught sight of her. When he was near to her, she saw that the clouds of loneliness and suffering had not left his haunting eyes despite his friendly smile and obvious efforts to appear sanguine.

"I was hoping to run into you, Mr. Wakefield. I have been wondering how you were… I hope you are well," she said hastily.

He bowed slightly.

She hesitated, then said boldly, "Will you walk with me a little?"

"If you wish it, Miss Darcy."

They began to walk slowly back up the path, he on one side and her on the other, with room for a third person between them. Gradually, the workmen in front of them disappeared around the bend in the road and they soon had the path to themselves.

"May I ask a personal question, Mr. Wakefield? You may choose not to answer if you had rather not."

"Certainly, Miss Darcy." His tone was respectful, if slightly reserved.

"Have you… have you any other family now that your mother is… has left us?"

"No. My father died when I was a small boy and my mother never remarried. I am an only child and have no other relations in this part of the country."

"Then you are quite alone now?"

"I have a few friends. And I ask for no pity, Miss Darcy."

His brows drew together a little as he spoke and Georgiana hastened to say, "I do not offer it. Only sympathy. I know what it is like to lose your parents, and to be alone."

"You Miss? Surely your brother…" He stopped.

"He was not always at home. For years I lived with only my governess for company while Fitzwilliam struggled to manage his new responsibilities and his grief. He was always kind and loving towards me, but he could not always be with me."

The late afternoon sun was shining full in their faces as they walked and Georgiana, growing weary of its glare in her eyes, turned off the road onto a wooded path which she knew well.

"Will you come?" she asked Nathaniel, who hesitated on the road, unsure of her intent.

"Should we not continue our path home?" he asked doubtfully.

"I wish to show you something," she said. "It is just around this bend."

He paused for another moment and then followed her. The path curved gently as Georgiana had said, until it revealed a small meadow with the river on one side. Blue asters, which still bloomed after the other flowers of summer had faded away, grew in the open spaces and two large rocks rested near the riverbank, favorite seats for fishermen and picnickers. Towards these Georgiana directed her steps.

"This is an old haunt of mine. But this summer I have not visited it until now. Is it not lovely?"

"It is a pretty spot, Miss Darcy," Nathaniel said, smiling a little. "But don't you think perhaps I might have seen it before?"

"I suppose it was very likely," with a smile. "But I could not be sure you had walked this way before." She removed her shawl as she spoke and laid it down on one of the large rocks. Seating herself on it and gesturing to the other rock she asked him, "Will you sit?"

Nathaniel hesitated again. "I don't think your brother would like you being here with just me for company Miss Georgiana."

She hardly noticed his blunder, but he realized it at once and apologized quickly. "I'm sorry, Miss Darcy. Old habits are hard to break. Some people in the village still call Mr. Darcy by his old title of Master Fitzwilliam after ten years. And you have always been Miss Georgiana since you were a little thing."

She smiled. "Do not distress yourself, Mr. Wakefield. I rather prefer my Christian name. So many of our visitors are close family that Miss Darcy hardly sounds like my name."

"I am afraid we have wandered from the subject," Nathaniel said suddenly. "Your brother. He would not approve."

"He lets me go where I will so long as I stay on Pemberley's grounds."

"I meant he would not approve of _me _being here."

"Elizabeth—Mrs. Darcy—told me to be sure and ask after you. And Fitzwilliam… he can have no objection either to this one visit," she said, a little hesitantly.

"Begging your pardon Miss, I think he can."

"He is… he is too careful of me. I know he simply wants to protect me, especially after the death of our parents, but I am not a little girl anymore. My brother does not need to keep track of my every movement."

Nathaniel stood still a moment longer and then said, "I am sorry Miss, but I can't go against… everything, like this."

"I see," said Georgiana in a subdued voice. "I am sorry to have distressed you, Mr. Wakefield. That was certainly never my intention."

"No," he protested quickly. "You, and your family have been everything that is thoughtful to me and mine. I would wish to repay you in kind. But Miss, even forgetting your brother for a moment, it is not fitting that I, a farm hand, a laborer, should converse at all with a lady like yourself."

"Well… you work for my family. Tell me about the land as you would tell my brother. Tell me about the village. I want to know. Please, I only wish to talk to you," she added, a note of pleading in her voice.

He looked at her earnestly. She was only a girl after all. A girl who needed a friend. In a moment of clarity he saw that need in her eyes, and his heart, weary with grieving, lonely and sorrowing as it was, could not stand against her entreaty. It was a very little thing after all… a few hours and she would be gone… back to her life… and he to his.

"Very well," he said finally, sitting down on his rock tentatively, as if ready to rise at any moment. "What would you like to know?"

"Did you always live in the village?"

"My father used to rent one of the outlying farms."

"And then?"

"After he died, we moved to the village, for the farm was too much for my mother and me to work by ourselves. But I've never forgotten the farm and should like to own one of my own someday or at least have charge of one as my father did. But that day is still far off. There were the doctor's bills you see."

"I am sorry to make you speak of her." Georgiana's voice was quiet.

"No, speaking of her to you is easy somehow."

She smiled, and he smiled back.

"Well," said Georgiana. "It seems we get on better than you supposed. I think we must have been destined to meet, Mr. Wakefield. How fortunate it was that Fleurette bolted," she added jestingly.

"You believe in destiny then?" he asked, replying only to the first part of her speech.

"In a plan for all things, yes. And you?"

"It's very hard to see it sometimes—what the plan could be—but it I have come to believe that there must be one. Nature alone is proof that someone planned everything out very carefully in the beginning. I don't see why God would make it and then leave it to fend for itself. I do not feel qualified, however, to go so far as to say that there is no such thing as an accident."

"I don't know quite what to say. We have entered on a philosophical debate now and I have not an idea as to how I should reply."

"Just tell me what you really think. How else should you reply?"

"That is not the way of polite society," Georgiana said, then feared she had sounded unduly judgmental or superior.

But Nathaniel smiled. "I don't consider myself polite society, Miss. So I don't think you have much to worry about."

Georgiana stared at him in surprise. "I never thought of it like that. The supposed culture and breeding of today's society prevent it from any deeper connection or meeting of minds and hearts than can be gained by talking of the latest parties or the weather. It is all so shallow. I always knew it was meaningless and now I know why." She stopped and a blush suddenly suffused her cheeks. "Forgive me," she stammered. "I forgot myself."

Nathaniel, who had been watching her with a new brightness in his eyes, said matter of factly, "I saw nothing wrong in anything you said and therefore I cannot think of anything to forgive."

"But I was going on so."

"I didn't mind," he said, laughing.

Georgiana looked at him, with her head tilted a little to one side. How nice his laugh sounded. His eyes looked quite cheerful now and, despite her embarrassment, she was pleased that she had made him forget his troubles for a time.

"Well then," she said. "Where did we leave off?"

* * *

The day was cloudy.

It was the beginning of the Fitzwilliam family's second month at Matlock. Kitty and the children were fairly settled, and the place was beginning to feel like home to its new, young mistress. Richard had gone back to Rosings to oversee some final arrangements. He would likely have to go at least twice a year, but that could not be helped.

Kitty crossed to the nursery window and stood, looking out at the clouds and the dark shadowy bulk that was the mountain. James crawled over to her and she picked him up and stood, holding him close.

"Tonight, I daresay we shall have our first storm in this house," Kitty told her son.

A step sounded in the hall and Kitty turned from the window. A maid entered and announced that there was a gentleman in the parlor downstairs who wished to speak with Richard or herself.

"Who would come visiting on this kind of day? Did he leave a name?" Kitty asked as she crossed the room with James in her arms.

"No Ma'am."

Kitty laid James down in his cradle and stooped to press a quick kiss to Cathy's forehead before summoning the nurse and following the maid downstairs.

Kitty opened the parlor door and went in. The light was still dimmer in the darkly paneled room and Kitty started violently when a gentleman arose from a chair almost at her elbow.

"I am afraid I have alarmed you Lady Matlock, please forgive me," began the gentleman, who was rather stout and wore a black coat. "You are Lady Matlock?" he asked as she continued to stare at him nervously.

Kitty shook herself and said, "Yes, indeed. Forgive me, sir. What is your name, pray tell?"

"I am Mr. Morrison, a lawyer, your ladyship. Is Lord Matlock here or likely to be home soon?"

A tremor passed over Kitty, she hardly knew why. The repeated mention of her and her husband's titles had however reminded her of the dignity of her position and she moved to a chair. Sitting down, she motioned for him to take the opposite one.

"Thank you, your ladyship."

"I remember your name from the letter informing my husband of his father's death," Kitty said. "But Lord Matlock is not here and will not be returning until a fortnight has passed. He is in Kent, visiting the estate which we have so recently vacated."

"May I repeat the condolences expressed in the letter regarding the death of the late Earl and Viscount and offer my congratulations on the vast inheritance which your husband now lays claim to."

Kitty nodded in what she hoped was a gracious manner.

"Well Madam," Mr. Morrison cleared his throat as a sign that business was now to be commenced upon. "I am the lawyer charged with the disposal of the Farley estates."

"The Farley estates?" exclaimed Kitty, forgetting her dignity.

"I take it from your words that you have not yet heard that The Right Honorable John Farley, Earl of Ashton has passed away at the venerable age of eighty-one years."

"I am sorry to hear it now," said Kitty, recovering her composure with an effort.

"Indeed, your ladyship, it is most distressing," continued the lawyer in the same dry voice, "for his only son, Lord Farley, heir to the estate and title, was most unfortunately killed in the Battle of Waterloo. A battle which I believe your husband fought in as well?"

"Yes," said Kitty, very quietly, for she knew now what was to come.

"For some time we have been studying the question of who the estate should be left too. Lord Ashton entrusted us with the task of disposing of his property. The nearest living relation we were able to discover was a nephew, a Mr. Thomas Gangridge, who visited the family a few years ago and who put in his claim as heir soon after the earl's passing. But just when we thought all was settled, we found, while finalizing your husband's status as Earl of Matlock, that he had under his care, a niece, the daughter of a deceased cousin, one Catherine Farley."

Kitty paled a little. This was good news surely. Cathy was an heiress of two large estates now. Yet her heart was full of apprehension.

Mr. Morrison continued, "The family at Ashton were not aware that such a child existed. Naturally, when we found out, I set out at once to discover if the child was indeed the daughter of the late Lord Farley. Is our evidence correct?"

"Yes, sir, it is." whispered Kitty.

"Thank you, Madam. Now I have only to see the child to settle the matter."

"Shall I have her sent for?"

"If you would be so kind."

Kitty rang the bell, and, when a maid appeared, requested her to bring down Miss Cathy. The maid curtseyed and went away.

"Sir," Kitty said, turning to the lawyer. "You are aware of the fact that Miss Farley is not yet two years old?"

"Yes, Your Ladyship."

"And who will…" She stopped herself, realizing he might think her to be hinting at something. "Someone will be required to manage the Farley estate during her minority. Who is there to do so?"

"Beggin' your pardon Lady Matlock. I've brought Miss Cathy," came the maid's voice from the doorway.

Both occupants of the room turned to look as little Catherine came in. Her flaming red curls bounced slightly as she entered on her wobbly little legs. She spied Kitty instantly and ran forwards, holding out her little arms to her.

Kitty bent to receive her and clutched the little girl to her with all the strength of a mother who fears losing her child. Drawing a deep breath, she straightened up.

"Mr. Morrison, Miss Farley."

Cathy, seeing the strange man looking at her, hid her face in Kitty's skirt.

"Her resemblance to her father is striking, Madam. There can be no doubt of her inheritance."

Kitty nodded to the maid who extracted the little girl from Kitty's skirt and carried her back to the nursery.

When she had gone Mr. Morrison said briskly, as if they had never been interrupted. "As to your question, that is where the difficulty lies. You see, your husband, as her legal guardian, as specified by her longest surviving parent, is entitled to attend to her affairs. However, the child's paternal grandmother, widow of the late Earl, is still living and wishes to remain in residence at the house with…" The lawyer paused and looked towards the door out of which Cathy had exited, before adding quickly, "With Miss Farley under her supervision."

"No!" cried Kitty fiercely.

"I beg your pardon Madam?" said the lawyer, looking somewhat taken aback.

"You cannot take her from us. We do not want the care of the estate. Heaven knows we have enough land to tend to as it is. But you cannot take her away. She has become like my own daughter. My husband adores her. She would be miserable without us, I know she would. Perhaps her grandmother has a desire to know and love her… but she cannot love her as we do."

"I must warn you, Lady Matlock, that there is a very likely chance that Lady Ashton has a just as much legal right to the child as your husband. You and Lord Matlock are only first cousins once removed of Miss Farley and some might say that your neglecting to inform her father's family of her existence makes you unfit guardians. You may be viewed as out to run the estate yourselves, especially as your husband's title was not secured at that time. I understand that it was probably through a fear of losing the child, but the matter, should Lady Ashton refuse to bend, will be decided by the law, not by feelings."

"We _will _go to court if we must," Kitty said, her blue eyes flashing in a way that Richard would have known meant danger.

Mr. Morrison must have guessed as much, for he rose and said, "Madam, I beg that we close this conversation until such time as Lord Matlock is here and we can all discuss the matter rationally."

"I agree to your proposal. But I assure you that my husband will feel as I do in the case."

"Good day then, Lady Matlock."

She acknowledged his farewell with a nod, but her lips were still set in a hard line.

* * *

A/N: Just wanted to tell you all now that my posting schedule will likely slow down a whole lot next month. There is a big chunk in the middle of the story still unwritten, though the first third (what I've posted so far) and the last third are done. So don't worry if you don't see such frequent updates. I am going to see this story through... it just might take a little longer than I hoped and some of you might expect given that I've kept up a pretty brisk posting schedule in the past. Thank you all in advance for your patience. Please let me know what you think of these new developments and have a great week! -RegencyGirl17


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: October 1817**

The allotted fortnight had passed, it was a Sunday, and Richard was coming. Kitty saw him from a window and ran down to meet him, forgetting dignity in her wild longing to feel his strong arms holding her close again.

She ran out onto the drive as he halted his stallion and dismounted with the single easy movement of a born horseman. Another moment and she was in his arms.

"Richard," she whispered, pulling her head away to look up at him, tears glittering on her cheeks.

Richard's smile changed to a worried frown and a line appeared between his eyes. "What's wrong Kitty?" holding her hands firmly.

"They want to take Cathy away," she said miserably.

"Who?" he questioned, fear darkening his face.

"Her grandmother, Lady Ashton. There was a lawyer here." She choked on her tears and hid her face in his coat as his arms tightened protectively about her again.

"Come inside and tell me about it," he said gently. He began to steer her towards the entrance as she wiped her eyes hastily.

Once inside, she told him the whole of Mr. Morrison's conversation including his promise to return. All the while Richard held her hand tightly in his. His face was white, but he did not interrupt her narrative or speak until she had finished.

Then, "I don't know Kitty… We may have a hard struggle before us."

"They can't take her… they can't…" shaking her head violently, lightning flashing in her eyes, flickering through the clouds of tears which threatened to fall like rain.

"Before we ask, 'Can they take her?' we must ask 'How hard will they try?' Don't cry anymore dearest," Richard said, pulling her closer to him and laying his cheek against her head. "I will never give her up without a fight."

* * *

Meanwhile at Pemberley, Georgiana had attended the village church with Darcy and Elizabeth as usual.

She had seen Nathaniel there, out of the corner of her eye. Fitzwilliam had stopped to speak to him for a moment after church, but Georgiana was standing by Elizabeth, who was engaged with two or three of the village women, and she stayed by her until Darcy joined them and escorted them to the carriage.

Now it was late afternoon and Georgiana walked alone, for Elizabeth had been tired after the drive home and had forgone accompanying her today.

She took the short way from the house to the woods, and thence to the river, and walked along its bank for a time, stopping now and then to watch the kingfishers at work.

Georgiana knew she was heading towards the meadow where she had sat with Nathaniel the week before. She had no expectation of seeing him there again, for there had been no talk of a second meeting when he had left after an hour with the words, "Goodbye Miss, and thank you," but something about the place drew her nonetheless.

When she approached the clearing, she heard the sound of youthful voices through the trees.

Coming out into the meadow she beheld a dozen of the village children, come to gather bouquets of the lovely blue asters. They were wandering about in the long grass, mostly girls with a few little boys in tow. The sunlight lit their happy faces and made their hair glow. Their laughter floated along on the breeze towards the river which joined its gentle babbling with theirs.

"Miss Georgiana!" cried a little voice and Georgiana turned to see a little girl, only seven or eight years old, with streaming dark hair and dark eyes, come running towards her. Georgiana knew the child. She had been sick the year before, during the dreadful summer, and Georgiana had gone to her home twice to see her and bring her little gifts which she accepted as treasures of the highest value.

"Judith!" she responded with equal delight to the little girl's enthusiastic greeting. "I am so glad to see you well, and out playing in the sunshine."

"Yes, mother says I and the weather are both better this year," Judith said, dancing around merrily.

"Indeed you are," Georgiana said, drawing the child to her.

The little girl returned her embrace willingly, but her keen little eyes soon spied another, more beloved figure coming up the village path and she cried out, nearly deafening Georgiana, whose ear was near to her mouth, "Nathaniel!"

She broke away from Georgiana, who stood up and watched as she ran across the clearing and threw herself with all the abandon of happy childhood into Nathaniel's arms.

Laughing, he scooped her with one arm. She put her little arms around his neck, and he reached up and brushed her flying hair out of her eyes.

Looking up, he saw Georgiana and he flushed a little, realizing she must have been watching all along. But he came over, with the child still in his arms, to greet her.

"This is a very pleasant gathering," Georgiana commented, smiling.

"I hate to say it, when all seem to be enjoying themselves so much, but I have been sent to bring it to an end. Their mothers want them home," gesturing with his head in the direction of the other children, "and I was commissioned to fetch them back to the village."

"Well, I shall hate to see them go, but their mothers must not be kept waiting."

"Are you going to eat with us tonight Nathaniel?" Judith asked.

"Yes, little blackbird I am," Nathaniel told her, tugging gently at a strand of her dark hair.

"Her oldest brother is a friend of mine," he explained to Georgiana. "I visit their home often."

"Georgiana remembered the youth in the field with the black hair and laughing brown eyes. The resemblance between him and his sister was very plain.

"I hope you have a lovely visit," smiling at both man and child.

"Would you like to come, Miss Georgiana?" asked Judith innocently.

"You are too sweet Judith," Georgiana told her. "But..." she tried to think of a way to phrase her refusal that the little girl would understand and finally settled on this simple explanation, "my family is expecting me back for supper and so I am afraid I must be making my way home."

Judith nodded wisely. "My mother doesn't like when I am late for dinner."

"Goodbye then, Judith."

The little girl waved from her perch on Nathaniel's arm.

Georgiana turned her eyes up to his face. "I shall see you soon then," she said, the last few words somewhere between a farewell and a question.

He looked at her for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "I hope you shall."

She smiled and turned away from the happy gathering.

Behind her, she heard Nathaniel calling to the children, gathering them together for the walk home.

Her heart was singing.

* * *

Darcy found his wife in the garden, filling a basket with the blue asters which still grew after the summer flowers had withered away.

"How are you my love?" he asked, drawing her down to a bench and seating himself beside her.

"As well as usual I believe," Lizzy replied, giving him an inquiring glance from her dark eyes. "And you?"

"Very glad to have you to myself for a few minutes. Much as I love my sons and my home, the care of both do take up a great deal of your time."

"But we are not alone," Lizzy said, and there was a sudden suppressed laugh in her voice and a dancing light in her eyes.

"Are we not?" asked Darcy, shifting his position to gaze about the garden in surprise. "I see no one."

"No, you cannot and shall not see him or her for over seven months."

He turned his full attention on her and studied her face thoughtfully. "I think I understand you. But I would hate to be mistaken. Pray enlighten me further on the subject."

"On the contrary, I had better not. You were just remarking on the number of my responsibilities and I dislike the thought of upsetting you by telling you I shall soon have another."

"Are you sure Lizzy?"

"I think I am. I know the symptoms well enough by this time," she replied, momentarily serious.

"But Lizzy, that is wonderful!"

He drew her to him and kissed her long and hard. Her arms crept about his neck and he drew her onto his lap.

When she finally pulled away, she sat there on his lap, running her hands through his hair.

"It is a relief to have it out with," she said. "And I am glad you are not too severely vexed," looking down at him as a flock of dimples chased each other around her lips like swallows in the spring.

He regarded her with an exasperated countenance. "Lizzy, you'd try the patience of a saint."

She laughed merrily. "And you are very saintly to put up with me."

"You are so beautiful," he said softly, reaching up to touch one of her curls. She turned her head to place a kiss on his hand. "I hope it's a girl this time," he said. "And I hope she looks just like you."

"Goodness no. That would never do. I would wish her to be a great deal prettier and better than me."

"Impossible."

* * *

The sun had set and the children were in bed. Richard and Kitty had gone to her private sitting room where they could speak undisturbed.

"First I think we must go to visit Lady Ashton. The Earl's family estate is not far from here. Perhaps this matter can be settled without further difficulty and without involving the law," Richard said, half to himself and half to his wife, as he paced up and down before the fire.

"Yes. Let us go tomorrow," Kitty agreed. "Should we bring Cathy?"

"What is your opinion on the matter?"

"I am afraid that if we bring her, Lady Ashton will be more determined to have her stay at Ashton, for no one can help but love her once they see her."

Richard smiled slightly at this very feminine statement, but it was a wry smile as he remembered his own first meeting with Cathy and his feelings on the occasion.

"If we do not bring her," Kitty continued, "Lady Ashton may feel slighted, and the idea may be more firmly fixed in her mind that we are trying to ensure that she remains estranged from her granddaughter."

"It is so strange to me that my daughter, for I truly think of her as my own, should have a grandmother that I have never spoken to and that I know almost nothing of." There was bitterness in his voice.

"You have seen her then?"

"Yes. When I was a boy she would make a yearly visit to my mother. I and my brother would sit as still as mice until we were dismissed. She never showed any ill temper that I can recall, but she certainly made no move to ingratiate herself with us boys."

"Then perhaps she is not fond of children in general. Therefore, we ought to bring Cathy and show her that we are the right people to have her and that she really ought to stay with us."

"I think you are right. Shall we bring James as well?"

"We had better. He will cry without Cathy."

Richard smiled roguishly. His sense of humor could never be repressed for long. "Or we could leave him and act the part of the barren couple in the fairy tale who take in a forlorn little child who soon becomes the greatest and only joy in their empty lives."

Kitty laughed despite the heavy feeling in her heart. "That would scarcely do if we were to have to go to court. It would just be one more black mark on our record."

Richard smiled. "Then let us bring him. The first part of the day will be a regular field trip."

"Then I suggest we go to bed," Kitty put in mildly, "so that we may not fall asleep in Lady Ashton's parlor. It is after eleven o'clock."

Richard offered her his arm and took up the candle, leaving only the dying embers in the fire to light the room as they departed.

* * *

The rocks by the river had gradually become Georgiana's favorite resting place on her solitary rambles about Pemberley. She would go and sit awhile, and perhaps twice a week, Nathaniel would come up the path from the village or from the fields to join her for an hour.

She saw the way his blue eyes would brighten at the sight of her, light dancing in them like it dances over the ocean. The loneliness which she knew so well would disappear from them like magic, a change which was reflected in her own eyes though she did not know it.

She only knew that she needed him as desperately as he needed her.

They would sit opposite each other on the large rocks and talk freely, for there were none of the restrictions on their conversations which 'polite' society usually dictated.

Nathaniel could certainly not be expected to have read as much as Georgiana, but he knew more books than would have been guessed.

"My mother's father owned a great many books. When I would visit his library, I was brought into contact with all sorts of literature. And every Christmas he would give me one of his books. As a child I liked best the adventure stories, books by Daniel Defoe, Johnathan Swift and others, but since then I have applied myself to learning what I can about agriculture and all its business, that I may be prepared to run my own farm someday."

"You say your grandfather owned a library. Surely that is unusual for–" she stopped but he understood.

"My… my mother was the daughter of a small landowner. Marrying my father brought her down in the world."

"That was the cost of her love," Georgiana said quietly, thinking of Mrs. Wakefield's strange words and suddenly understanding them.

Nathaniel was quiet and she said, "But you no longer have family here. Who owns your grandfather's land now?"

"My grandfather died, and my uncle became master of the property. He offered to take my mother and I to live with him after my father's death, but he had opposed the match with my father at first and my mother was too proud to accept his help. So we moved to the village. Years later, my uncle sold the property and emigrated to America. I know not who owns it now."

In her heart, Georgiana found it hard to be sorry that Nathaniel's mother had refused to accept her brother's help. If she had, Nathaniel might now have been in America instead of here beside her.

* * *

They discussed family, society, and politics.

"Just because it's not our place to meddle with the business of the nation doesn't mean we shouldn't do our best to understand it," Nathaniel told Georgiana with a smile.

He knew little of music, but Georgiana knew enough for the both of them and she would sing for him occasionally. He liked the simple country airs best and he would sit on the ground with his back against the rock, his eyes closed, and a happy smile playing about his mouth.

In these moments Georgiana would study his face closely and she gradually learned by heart every feature in it, every expression of the mobile mouth, every angle of the firm jaw and every line about the fine forehead.

One day he opened his eyes suddenly, she looked away hastily, and said, "That day in the wheat field wasn't the first time I got a good look at you and you at me."

"When was the first?"

"It must have been three or four years ago. I was up on the roof of a house that had been damaged, doing some repairs. You stood below and when I nodded to you, you hurried off."

"I was shy, and foolish enough to think that every man had designs on me. I was so vain."

"You were young."

"And I had a greater cause to think so than most, from past experiences."

She told him of George Wickham, a story which had never passed her lips since she first told it to her brother. Now, she looked back on it as on a story of someone else, whose emotions were separate from hers.

"I am sorry you should have had to endure such a sad revelation," he said when she had done. "But I think you are stronger for it."

"I am not usually called strong."

"But you are," simply. "Strong enough to admit your weaknesses."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I think we help each other to be strong," Georgiana said finally.

He smiled. He opened his lips to speak and then closed them again as if unsure of his next words. Finally, "Miss Georgiana?"

"Yes."

"I… I want you to know that wherever our lives take us, whatever happens, the thought that… that you care… will help me all my life."

"I care very much, Mr. Wakefield."

He smiled and soon changed the subject, but Georgiana saw the haunted look in his eyes again, which the sight of her had always before dispelled, as he looked at her.

Near the end of every visit he would rise and say, "May I walk you to the edge of the woods, Miss Georgiana?"

She would always reply in the affirmative and they would walk up along the trail slowly, until they came out of the cool woods into the sunshine. There he would bow and leave her with a final, "God keep you, Miss."

This routine did not change as the days passed. The only alteration was in the way they addressed each other.

"Miss Georgiana" became just "Georgiana."

"Mr. Wakefield" became "Nathaniel."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: **

Lady Ashton was buried in the depths of a large armchair. Indeed, one would have had to look twice before seeing her at all, if it were not for her scarlet mourning shawl, which glowed like the center of a burning coal in the heap of black composed of her mourning dress and chair.

She seemed rather nervous at first, almost timid. "Lord and Lady Matlock," she murmured. "How very kind of you to call."

"Thank you for receiving us so readily," Kitty began. "We have been terrible neighbors I know. We have long intended to call on all the families in the area but have been so busy that we have not yet managed to do so."

"I see very few people these days."

Kitty nodded sympathetically. "We are very sorry for your loss."

"I lost my father very recently," Richard put in. "I have some comprehension of your pain."

"You are very kind," Lady Ashton said, her voice stiff, any and all emotion hidden.

Kitty looked at her husband. It was obvious the elderly woman did not trust them.

Richard decided to take the plunge. "If your ladyship is willing, we have brought Miss Farley to meet her grandmother."

"Oh, really?" Lady Ashton straightened in her chair a little and looked interested.

"Shall I bring her in? And have I your permission to bring our son as well?"

"Yes, fetch them both in. I wish to see them."

Richard bowed and left the room.

Kitty leaned forward and said earnestly. "Lady Ashton. Your granddaughter is very, very dear to us. We love her very much and are deeply interested in her happiness."

"You show that interest by your willingness to take her upbringing upon yourselves," Lady Ashton said, again with that reserved tone. She sunk back into her armchair and again became its small glowing center.

Kitty bit her lip worriedly. Then, "Lady Ashton, I fear that you have heard some ill of us. Please tell me what it is that I may allay your fears."

"On the contrary Lady Matlock," Lady Ashton replied in the way of a well-bred lady, her words and tone everything polite and insincere.

Richard reentered with Cathy on his arm and the nurse followed him in carrying James. Richard set the little girl down before her grandmother and said, "Miss Catherine Farley, your ladyship."

Cathy stuck a finger in her mouth and stood, looking up at the big armchair and the small old woman with her big hazel eyes. A lone shaft of sunlight fell on her bright hair and it glowed like fire, Lady Ashton's red shawl fading pitifully in contrast.

"She is very like my son," Lady Ashton said, and there was a something, a remnant of a bitter anguish in her voice which she could not hide.

There was a moment of silence, followed by Richard clearing his throat huskily. Kitty looked up at him worriedly. She knew that it was still very hard for him to think on that day at Waterloo. But he shook himself a little and turned to take James from the nurse, who bobbed a curtsy and left.

Lady Ashton reached out her hand and touched Cathy's shining curls gently. "Why, she is a sweet little thing is she not?"

She smiled and Kitty laughed a breathless sort of laugh as she replied, "Indeed she is Madam."

"And this is your son?" turning to look at James with visible interest.

"Yes, this is James," Richard replied cheerfully.

"How old is he?"

"Eight months, Madam."

Lady Ashton turned back to Cathy. "And how do they get along?"

"I think they are very close for children of their age. They are almost always together, and James will cry if Cathy is gone for too long a time. She, in her turn, will not go to sleep without seeing him safely in his crib first," Kitty said, trying to speak lightly and hide the trembling in her voice.

This communication however, caused the shroud of reserve to fall on Lady Ashton again and she sat back suddenly in her large chair and was again enveloped in its darkness.

Kitty cast a despairing look at her husband.

Richard, with an equally sober glance at her, said earnestly, "As you can see for yourself Lady Ashton, Catherine is healthy and happy."

As he spoke, Cathy reached out her arms to the only mother she had ever known, and Kitty gathered her up and held her close.

"She is very fond of us and we of her," Richard continued. "You can see that she has been lovingly treated in our home. Will you not allow her to live a normal childhood, with the companionship of other children and with loving parents?"

Lady Ashton wavered. Kitty, praying silently, saw her struggle clearly.

"I don't know…" she began.

Kitty saw the old woman's eyes move suddenly and fix themselves on something behind her.

"I see you have other company Madam," said a nasally voice from the doorway behind Kitty's chair.

Kitty and Richard both rose quickly and turned to face the newcomer whose spare figure was silhouetted in the doorway.

"Ah," Lady Ashton began in a decidedly relieved tone. "Lord and Lady Matlock, may I present Mr. Gangridge, my nephew."

The man in the doorway bowed and Richard returned it as well as he could with James in his arms.

As the man approached nearer his features became visible and Kitty, whose eyes met his, drew back a little at the cunning expression she saw there.

He moved towards Lady Ashton's chair and took up an almost defensive stance—or so it seemed to Richard—beside it.

"Mr. Gangridge is the son of my late husband's sister. He has been most attentive to me in this sad time," Lady Ashton said.

"Nothing I do is enough, your ladyship, when you bear up with such great fortitude in the face of sorrow," the nephew replied, turning to her with a look of devotion which contrasted strongly with his former suspicious expression.

Kitty, who had time to observe the newcomer more closely during the course of this exchange, described him later to Georgiana as follows: He was of average height, rather thin and with large, bony limbs. Nearer forty than thirty, his red hair, brushed carefully across his forehead, was greying slightly at the temples. His grey eyes shifted constantly about the room and his hands twitched from time to time.

Kitty drew Cathy a little closer to her.

"Ah, your granddaughter I believe, Madam," Mr. Gangridge observed, nodding at Cathy. "Come here little girl."

Cathy did not move and Mr. Gangridge reached out a hand as if to take her by the shoulder and pull her forewords.

Cathy shrank back into Kitty's arms and Kitty said quickly, "She is not fond of strangers, sir. And children of her age are often a little shy."

"Well, she'll soon get over that. I shall be living here, you know, to help my aunt with the management of the estate. Lady Ashton shall not have to worry about a thing," turning to the old woman with another solicitous smile.

Kitty and Richard heard the implication in his words and sent each other, quick, anxious glances.

"I think perhaps the children should be returned to their nurse now," Richard said, rising again and taking Cathy's hand.

Kitty rose to open the door for him and, as she turned back towards her seat, she saw Mr. Gangridge straighten from whispering in Lady Ashton's ear. The old woman nodded at him and Kitty's forehead creased with worry.

Richard soon returned and sat down. He gave Kitty a long look and she knew he was about to ask the fateful question.

"Lady Ashton, our time grows short. Please tell us that you shall brook no opposition to our raising Miss Farley in our home. We shall be happy to bring her often to see you and shall see to it that she receives all education necessary for an heiress such as herself."

The old woman looked very small, buried again in the depths of her armchair and she looked up diffidently at Mr. Gangridge who raised his eyebrows significantly.

Lady Ashton turned back to Richard, "Lord Matlock, I thank you for your care of and interest in the child, but I believe it is in my granddaughter's best interests that she come and live with me."

Richard stiffened. "Well then Lady Ashton, I must inform you that the child's mother, who was my own cousin, gave me the guardianship of Miss Farley and her mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, signed the documents to legalize it."

"Ah but Lord Matlock, I must ask," began Mr. Gangridge, forgetting to speak through Lady Ashton. "Was her other grandmother consulted? Did she, or the child's still living grandfather have a say in the matter? Does not such negligence on your part raise questions as to your fitness for your position?"

"And you think you are more fit?" Kitty asked, her voice slicing through the air sharply.

"It is not my fitness which is being called into question."

"On the contrary sir, your fitness is very much in question since I am beginning to understand that if Miss Farley lived here you would run her affairs."

"Yes, and you would not. I daresay that idea is very painful to you, who have not been rich long enough to know when you have enough."

Kitty rose slowly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"One cannot speak of what they do not understand Mr. Gangridge."

Lady Ashton spoke here. "Mr. Gangridge only wants what is best for me and my granddaughter."

"I see _you _have no trouble placing your trust in this man," Kitty said, turning fiercely upon her. "But as for me, I would rather flee the country than hand my daughter over to the likes of him."

Lady Ashton trembled like a leaf in the wind and for a moment Kitty faltered.

But Mr. Gangridge broke the pause with the words, "It seems we will meet again at court then, if that is agreeable to Lord Matlock."

"It is not agreeable in any way," Richard returned coldly. "But if there is no alternative agreement that can be reached then so be it. Is such your wish Lady Ashton?" making a last appeal to the old woman.

The coal looked like it might be extinguished at any moment. But a glance from Mr. Gangridge fanned it into a flickering life again. "Yes," she replied, almost firmly, yet very much as if she wanted the whole interview over with.

"You have Lady Ashton's answer. And now we must bid you good day," Mr. Gangridge said, showing his teeth in a mocking smile.

Kitty deigned only to sweep him with a scornful glance. To the woman she said, "Good day Lady Ashton. I am sorry to see that your confidence is so misplaced. I know that your son was a good and noble man and that he would hate to see you manipulated in such a way."

Eyes flashing, she left the room. Richard bowed stiffly and followed her out.

In the carriage with the children, Kitty hid her face in her hands and sobbed.

"I am so sorry Richard. Can you ever forgive me?"

"What is there to forgive?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "I ruined our chances of solving the matter peacefully."

He lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. "That man deserved every word Kitty, and as far as I can tell Lady Ashton did too. I cannot bring myself to wish you to take back one word."

"But I might have lost Cathy through my own temper," she protested, still sobbing bitterly.

"No," he told her. "We shall win the case Kitty. Goodness and truth still count for something. And by George we have them on our side. Do not despair, love. I am not going to."

Kitty looked at him and then out the window at the fast disappearing house.

"Lady Ashton did not deserve what I said," she whispered, but Richard did not hear her, for Cathy began to cry at that moment, upset by her mother's tears, though she was too young to understand from what they stemmed.

"Mama," she whimpered, reaching out for her.

Kitty gathered her up and held her close. "I am here darling. I won't let you go."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I love hearing all your thoughts in the reviews section. :)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Well, it's been a minute, but I'm back with another chapter. :) I had a ridiculously hard time writing this, considering that it really is just a filler chapter. Does anyone else think those are the most difficult to write sometimes? That being said, there are some important things mentioned and hinted at however, so keep an eye out for them. :)

* * *

**Chapter 9: November 1817 **

It was the following afternoon when Richard came slowly into the room where Kitty was waiting for him and said quietly, "I have been to see Mr. Morrison as you know. But Mr. Gangridge has beaten me to it. He visited the lawyer's office yesterday, after we left Ashton, and filed a complaint against us, under Lady Ashton's name of course. There will be a court case in York at the Winter Assizes. It will be some weeks before we know the date."

Kitty's eyes were fearful, but she smiled bravely. "We knew it would come to this, did we not?"

"I suppose we did. But I did not count on Mr. Gangridge moving so quickly. I had hoped to speak to Mr. Morrison first. I had hoped that there might still be another way of solving this mess."

"It was not of your doing Richard."

"What was not of my doing?" His voice was tired, his eyes awash with regret.

"All of this… this uncertainty and distress we are now enduring… you did not cause it."

"I might have prevented it though." He paused, and then swore softly under his breath, adding, "Why could I not have gone last night?"

"You could not have known that he would act with such speed."

"Well, I know now. I have gained valuable insight into my opponent's character. He does not fight in the open. He does not allow us to mutually file a dispute; he files a complaint first. I am forced to admit that I am up against a slyer adversary than I bargained for."

Both were silent for a moment, then Richard finished, "Well, there is nothing for it but to see it through now."

Kitty nodded. "And has Darcy replied to your message?"

"Yes. He will come on Monday and stay for a few days." Richard leaned against the back of a chair as he spoke.

"You look so tired darling," Kitty said quietly. "Will you go and rest a while?"

Richard straightened up quickly and gave a half-hearted smile. "I have work to do I am afraid."

"Your latest attempts to find a steward have been unsuccessful, haven't they?"

He nodded. "I have had no luck yet. Sending Mr. Bartlett to Rosings is not a decision I regret. He is doing good work there and I hear that his daughter's health is improving. But it had proven more difficult than I suspected to find an acceptable replacement to take over his work here at Matlock. I intend to speak to Darcy about it when he comes. Perhaps he will have a suggestion."

* * *

"You are ready then?" Elizabeth asked her husband, as he entered the family sitting room on the morning of his ride to Matlock.

"Yes," he said, coming up to her and taking her hands in his.

"You have everything you will need?"

"Yes," he said again. "And it is only a short trip, Elizabeth. I shall be back in four days."

"Nay, Fitzwilliam. Do not cut your visit short on my account. Stay as long as they need you."

"You do not want me then?" he asked her playfully.

Lizzy's voice was low and earnest as she replied, "I shall want you every moment you are gone. But I will gladly suffer, knowing that you are bringing comfort and help to my beloved sister and her family."

He looked at her for a long moment, then bent and kissed her tenderly.

"I love you Elizabeth," lightly touching the slight curve of her belly, beneath which their child was growing.

"And I love you. You must promise not to fret about me Fitzwilliam, as you always do, do not bother denying it. Instead devote all your energy to helping Richard and Kitty. Remember that Matlock is not far away and, if I truly need you, I can send for you and have you home in six hours. But that will not be necessary. I shall be quite well, and I have Georgiana."

He kissed her once more and then, reminded of his sister by the mention of her name, asked, "Where is Georgiana? I have said goodbye to the boys, but I have not seen her yet."

Georgiana herself answered, "I am here, brother," as she hurried into the room.

"Have you been out walking?" Darcy asked her.

"Yes," she answered quickly, stepping forward to embrace him, thus hiding her face from his view.

"Be a good girl while I am gone," Fitzwilliam told her, more out of force of habit than anything else, as he put his arms around her and bent slightly to place a kiss on the top of her head.

Georgiana stepped away from him as she said, "Do you not think that phrase is a little outdated Fitzwilliam? I am twenty after all, and not a little girl anymore." Her tone was mostly playful, but there was a handful of annoyance in it, and a fleeting touch of desperation.

"Yes, I do think it is outdated," her brother told her gently. "I just have a hard time reconciling myself to the lovely young lady you have become. I miss my little sister sometimes."

Georgiana looked like there was something else she would have liked to say on the subject, but it was not the time. Instead she relented into a resigned smile.

"Give Kitty my love," she said, hugging her brother again as she spoke.

"And mine as well, to Kitty and Richard too," Lizzy added.

"I will."

Darcy left his wife and sister with a final smile for each.

* * *

Three hours later, Darcy arrived at Matlock. His quiet confidence and cheerfulness brought temporary peace to the minds and hearts of the worried parents.

The following morning, Mr. Morrison called again. The three gentlemen spoke together for an hour, while Kitty remained upstairs with the children, for she did not trust herself yet in another such conversation and knew that Richard and Darcy would soon tell her all that they had learned.

When the lawyer had departed, Kitty joined the two remaining gentlemen in her husband's study.

"We have learned," Darcy began, when she had seated herself, "that Mr. Gangridge, acting in Lady Ashton's name, has contested not only your legal right to Cathy's guardianship, but also accused you to the court of neglect. In this way even if the results are in your favor regarding the legality of the matter, they will still have a chance."

Kitty nodded quietly.

Darcy went on. "I have questioned Mr. Morrison in depth about your chances in the issue of who has legal right to Catherine's guardianship. He, like myself, cannot yet see any clear outcome. If Lord Ashton were still alive the odds would be very much against you. Yet as the case stands, the contestants are strangely equal. You, her mother's cousin," looking at Richard, "and her maternal grandmother, Lady Catherine, involved as she is through her signature on the guardianship papers, are being challenged by Cathy's other grandmother and her father's cousin. For a child is required by law to have at least one male guardian and if Lady Aston were to win the case it seems very likely that she would choose Mr. Gangridge."

In which event Mr. Gangridge would receive official as well as unofficial power over Cathy, and thus over the family estate and what money they have," Richard pointed out. "No wonder he wants to hasten matters along, since at present his position depends solely on Lady Ashton's goodwill."

"Yes, although he certainly seems to have her completely in his power even now," Kitty said sadly.

"Well, he has no doubt poisoned her mind against us," Richard said. "We must prove in court that we are not the self-seeking, heartless villains she thinks we are."

Kitty nodded again, though somewhat doubtfully, before turning to Darcy. "Please go on," she urged. "You were speaking of our chances of winning the legal aspect of the case."

"There is little else to say on that point. All we have gathered is that it is difficult to predict its outcome. So let us now turn to the second aspect of Mr. Gangridge's accusation. On what grounds could the court reasonably find you guilty of neglect?" Darcy asked.

"The grounds that we deliberately withheld the information of Cathy's birth from her father's family for the purpose of remaining in sole control of her fortune," Richard replied.

"But I stood beside you while you signed and sealed the letter telling them of it," Darcy said. "The claim that you never attempted to contact them is thus easily refuted."

"Yet the fact remains," Richard pressed, "that we did not confirm that they ever received the letter. That _was _neglect on our part. I had a great deal on my mind at the time, but it is no excuse."

"I should have seen to it myself," Darcy said regretfully.

"No Darcy, it was my task. And I must confess that, when I thought of the matter at all, I entertained the hope that the lack of response from the Ashtons meant that they simply wanted nothing to do with raising Cathy. I hoped for a peaceful, carefree childhood for her. My hopes were unfounded, and, if the court can be convinced that they signify neglect, may lead to some degree of suffering for her…" He choked on his words and could go no further.

Kitty felt tears rising in her own eyes. The thought of little Cathy being brought up by some unknown governess, living in the same house as the pitiful woman and the scheming, greedy man, made her feel sick. She had not lied when she said that she would rather leave the country. What pain that would be, to leave behind her sisters and her home and go to a foreign place. But if it were the only way to keep her child she would not hesitate.

But she knew that this was not the time to dwell on such unhappy thoughts. There was still hope and she must focus on finding a solution to the problem, rather than on its possible consequences. Kitty bit her lip, thinking, and soon, an idea came to her. It was not a complete idea, but it was a beginning and would fill the heavy silence with had descended on the room.

"It seems to me," she began uncertainly, "that the first thing to do would be to look into just what became of the letter. We should see how far we can trace it. For we cannot be entirely certain yet that the letter never arrived." Her voice became stronger and more confident. "Is it not a possibility, however slight, that Lord Ashton received it, but chose to keep its contents hidden or forgot about it due to some circumstance? Could not the receiving of the letter, and the failure to respond, be considered negligence on the part of Lord Ashton. Even if, as is clear, Lady Ashton knew nothing of Cathy or the letter, such a state of affairs would shift some of the guilt of failing to contact the other party, from our shoulders to those of the Ashton family."

Kitty looked from one gentleman to another, only to see Darcy regarding her in some surprise.

Richard had recovered by this time and he grinned. "Now you see, Darcy, what I am up against when we have any disagreement."

Darcy smiled. "I think I am beginning to. I do believe that she and Elizabeth have us entirely beaten between them."

Kitty blushed a little. "I only wish to keep my daughter with me," she said in a low voice.

Richard reached out and took her hand.

"It is my guess that you will be instrumental in the process of fulfilling that objective," Darcy told her. "You have a heart and a mind, both in good working order. You will see when an opportunity presents itself."

Kitty blushed again, surprised at this praise from the usually quiet and practical Mr. Darcy.

"Well," Darcy said. "I suggest we follow your advice and look into the matter of tracing the letter at once. It could well prove beneficial in many ways."

He was all business again. But Kitty had seen the proof of how much Darcy's manner had softened over his years with Elizabeth, and she was glad to have such a trustworthy and compassionate friend in their time of trouble.

* * *

"Send my love to Lizzy and Georgiana, as always," Kitty said, when the hour for Darcy's departure arrived.

"I will. And here," drawing a letter from his pocket and handing it to her. "Lizzy wanted me to give you this."

Kitty took the letter and eyed Darcy suspiciously. "Why only give this to me now? What if I wished you to carry a reply?"

"My apologies for not thinking that through. To tell you the truth, I rather wished to be well away before you discovered its contents."

"You are teasing me now," Kitty protested. "It must be good news however from your smile. I only hope," dropping her voice sadly, "that we have as cheerful news for you soon."

His smile faded and he looked at her with compassionate eyes. "Do not be afraid Kitty," speaking seriously. "Cathy will not be taken from you while I or any who know and love you have ought to say about it."

"Thank you again Mr. Darcy, for everything."

He pressed her hand warmly and left.

* * *

The letter ran thus:

_My Dearest Kitty,_

_I am so very sorry to hear of the trouble you and Richard have been facing. I cannot imagine what pain of doubt and suspense you must be feeling. _

_My great wish is that I could do something to help and comfort you, but for now I must trust Fitzwilliam to give you all possible aid and support in this matter. I would accompany him, but I would be more of a burden than a help to you right now for I have been very ill of late. You, Kitty, are one of the first to know that I expect the arrival of a third Darcy child in the spring. I hope you will not feel in any way that I am forcing my happiness on you when you are sorrowing. I simply wish you to know what keeps me from coming to you._

_I send you my prayers and so very much love, dear sister. _

_Lizzy_

* * *

"Elizabeth is expecting another child," Kitty told Richard happily when he found her a quarter of an hour later, still pouring over her sister's letter.

"Well, congratulations are in order then! But was it not just like Darcy to slip off like that and leave the telling to the letter? He hates a scene so," Richard added, laughed wryly.

"I wonder when we shall have another child," Kitty mused, leaning back against the sofa and gazing at the ceiling.

"At this moment I am more concerned with the question of whether or not we shall _lose_ a child by year's end," Richard said, beginning lightly, but finishing with an angry, aggrieved tone.

"Indeed," Kitty agreed sadly. Then, changing the subject, "Had Darcy any suggestions regarding your hunt for a steward?"

"Yes. In fact, he had more than suggestions. He knows a man who he thinks is a likely candidate and he is going to speak to him and bring me an answer when he comes again in December for the court case."

"That is good news. Perhaps all our troubles shall be happily solved before the new year."

"Let us hope so Kitty. It is a happy thought and one which I would have you hold on to."

"I would have you hold onto it as well, darling."

He smiled at her, and Kitty felt very hopeful as she rose and folded her sister's letter and tucked it away in her desk. All about her she had loving friends and family. They could weather this storm together.

* * *

A/N #2: For any of you who may be wondering when we are going to get back to Georgiana and Nathaniel, hold on to your seats. The next chapter is going to be a wild ride. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: **

Early one morning, while Darcy was still at Matlock, Georgiana left Pemberley house and headed towards the woods. It was a cold day, and there was frost on the ground and clouds in the sky which spoke of snow soon to follow.

On the drive she met Lizzy, returning from her own morning walk.

"Good morning Georgiana. You are out early this morning."

"Not as early as you," Georgiana returned, giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"The cold air is invigorating to me," Lizzy said. Then, her motherly instincts roused, "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, but I shall not be out too long I daresay," Georgiana replied, flushing a little in spite of herself.

"You say that and then are gone a good two hours some days. I am the first to claim that time can feel irrelevant when one is out of doors, but I don't want you catching cold dear."

"I will be careful," Georgiana promised. "But it is you who should take care. You are the one carrying a child."

"I am going inside to a warm fire now and I shall expect to see you near one before the hour is out."

"I will try my best to oblige you," the younger lady replied, doing her best to sound playful.

"I shall see you soon then," Lizzy bade her goodbye with a smile.

Elizabeth's eyes followed Georgiana down the path and an anxious line formed between her eyes, replacing the bright smile she had shown her companion.

"Miss Georgiana has been taking many solitary walks lately."

Elizabeth turned to see Mrs. Reynold's standing beside her, a shawl drawn about her shoulders.

"I know," Elizabeth said. "I worry about her a little. But she seems happy enough. She smiles and sings, but somehow, I feel she is avoiding me. That thought or feeling, I hardly know which it is, has troubled me for some weeks now."

"Well, girls have their phases Mrs. Darcy. I hope I'm not speaking out of place…"

"No indeed, you know how much I value your opinion."

"Well, I think she will be more inclined to confide in you if you don't force her Ma'am. If she thinks you trust her, she will trust you."

"I do trust her. I only wish I could be sure she trusts me in return."

"She does Ma'am. I'm sure of it," comfortingly. "Now, come into the house before you and the babe catch cold."

"Very well," Elizabeth relented.

She sent one last anxious glance in the direction in which Georgiana had disappeared, and then followed the housekeeper inside.

* * *

Nathaniel had more time to spare now that the harvest was in and he was waiting by the rocks when Georgiana appeared at the far end of the clearing. Her heart leaped at sight of him as it always did, and from afar off she could see his smile.

He came to meet her, rubbing his hands together against the cold. "I don't think you should be sitting still today," he told her. "You'll catch cold for sure."

"May we walk then? I don't wish to go back. Why, I have barely seen you in six days. The few minutes we had the day before yesterday, before I had to return home to bid my brother goodbye, can hardly be counted."

"We can walk to the road and back," he responded. "It will be slightly warmer under the trees and away from the river. But I am afraid the temperature will likely only keep dropping as the day goes on."

They walked for a quarter of an hour and spoke lightly for a time on the weather and the harvest, but Georgiana was quiet and pensive.

Finally, Nathaniel paused and, bending down to look into her eyes, asked gently, "What's troubling you, Georgiana?"

"Nathaniel… I…" She stopped.

"Yes? What is it?" he urged.

"I… I do not know how much longer I can continue to meet you here. Lizzy suspects something. I'm sure of it. What shall we do?"

"I have been thinking on this as well," he said, knitting his brows together in concern. "Winter is coming on fast and I cannot let you freeze out here." He paused and Georgiana could sense that he was struggling with himself.

At last he said slowly, "I was hoping to put it off a little longer… but perhaps…"

There was another pause, another struggle, shorter and fiercer. "Perhaps it is time to say goodbye, at least until the spring."

"The spring?" she repeated, almost dazedly. She thought of what this would mean. For five long, dreary months she would not see him.

She was suddenly reminded of how she and her family would surely go to London in January and remain in Town for the remainder of the season. She would not even have the chance to pass him on the village street and catch his smile and nod out of the corner of her eye.

The endless rounds of balls and parties which she was escorted to by Elizabeth, Jane, or Kitty and even sometimes Lady Catherine, rose before her mind's eye. The endless round of suitors rose too, some full of themselves, some humble and supplicating, all self-interested, none of them wishing to know her soul. She saw herself, walking among the crowds, surrounded by people, yet completely alone since Nathaniel was not by her side.

The full force of what he meant to her suddenly hit her in the chest like a sharp blow and she froze in the path and could not move.

She loved him. As God was her witness, she loved him, Nathaniel Wakefield, who somehow managed to make her happier than she had ever been before. And she knew that she brought him happiness as well. She alone had the power to entirely dispel the grief and loneliness in his heart. Her brother and Elizabeth loved her, but Nathaniel needed her, and to be needed was joy.

Yes, she loved him, and there was nothing anyone could do to alter the fact.

"Georgiana?" she heard Nathaniel calling her from far away. "Georgiana," he called again, moving in front of her and taking hold of her shoulders and shaking them slightly.

Her eyes focused on his face. His deep blue eyes were fixed on her, their gaze frightened. "You are too cold," Nathaniel said firmly. His palms slid down from her shoulders to her hands which he lifted and began rubbing with his own.

"No…" She paused. "It is not the cold."

"What is it then?"

She looked up into his face, so close to hers. What better moment was there to tell him what her heart was screaming. She had revealed her deepest secrets to him before. She would do it again.

His hands had stopped their motions, as he waited for her reply, but they still covered hers. Now, in a moment, she pulled them towards her and pressed them to her cold lips. She held them there for a moment and then lowered them with her own.

"Nathaniel," still looking down at their joined hands. Then raising her head and looking into his eyes, "I love you."

"No, Georgiana," he said in a frightened voice, pulling his hands away quickly. "You must not think that way."

"Nathaniel… You must know what I feel for you. Tell me that you feel the same."

"I can't," he said, his voice harsh and shaking.

Moving off a few steps he said, almost to the grey trees and sky rather than to her, "I never meant for it to come to this."

Then, turning back to her and speaking calmly, "You know that's impossible, Georgiana, so let's forget it was ever mentioned." He gave her his usual warm and friendly smile, but she would not be dissuaded.

"I cannot forget it any more than I can forget you," she said in a low, earnest tone. "You occupy my mind and heart constantly and the idea of leaving you, even only for the winter, is agony to me. I cannot do without you. I wish to spend every moment of every day in your company. What is love if not this?"

"Look Georgiana," and his blue eyes were very troubled. "These walks and conversations are one thing. You are speaking of something quite different. Here, in these woods, you have made us equals. Out there, in the world, I am still a simple farmer and you are still a gentleman's daughter with a brother who would tear me up in little pieces if he knew I'd come near you."

"The world can think what it likes, Nathaniel," pushing the thought of her brother away, "if only you will love me as I do you. I thought… I was so very sure that there was something in your eyes sometimes… Would it be so very hard to love me back?" She knew she sounded desperate now, but she _was _desperate and did not care.

"I…" he paused. "I can't Georgiana. Don't you see you are asking the impossible of me? _We _can't get married!" he said, his voice suddenly frantic. "How can you think that is possible? Georgiana, I have nothing. And your brother… he is a good man. I could never take you from him to live a life of poverty and toil. No, you will go on to marry someone else, from your own sphere, whom your brother will approve of."

"But I do not want to marry anyone else. I do not want someone from my own sphere. I just want you." Tears were running down her face now. She saw the hopelessness of the situation; the hole which she had dug for herself gaped wide before her. "We could run away."

"No," he said again, shaking his head and lifting a hand as if to ward off some blow. Then, in his earlier, reasonable tone, "I think you tried that once before and didn't get far. You loved your brother more as I recall."

"But this is different, Nathaniel. You know it is!"

"Yes, it is different, Georgiana… but no less hopeless."

"And this is all you have to say to me after all these months? Nathaniel?"

"What else do you want me to say?" he cried suddenly. "Why do you insist on hearing me tell you that I don't love you and never will!"

There was silence, broken only by the sound of the river's sluggish murmuring and the fast breathing of the two humans.

Georgiana had a shred of the Darcy pride in her and it would not allow her to plead any further. She knew that it was entirely her own fault, and her heart broke to think of it, but she knew they could never return to what they were for so long. "I think… I think I must go," she said painfully.

At the edge of the clearing she paused. "I won't be coming back in the spring Nathaniel." Her voice shook as she spoke, and the last word, his name, was a broken whisper.

The light in his eyes had been flickering violently and now it went out altogether. "So be it then," he said quietly.

For a moment Georgiana was sure he was going to say something further, but the moment passed, and he did not.

She nodded shakily and turned away again. She did not look back. If she had she would have seen him standing perfectly still, exactly where she had left him.

She was gone and still he stood there. At last, when she was far away, he knelt down on the cold ground and buried his head in his hands. He stayed there, bent over, until the snow began to fall around him. Bitter, bitter cold. Then he rose, turned, and walked slowly back towards the village. But now his eyes were those of a dying man. He had wounded her heart, but he had fairly killed his own as he withdrew the blade.

* * *

The weather grew steadily colder over the next two weeks, and the light coverlet of snow did not melt. Still, the world was bare and bleak enough, with the brown, dead grasses poking through the snow and the trees stretching their grey, twisted branches to the cloud covered sky or drooping them dejectedly to the ground.

Through this bleakness, a lone figure made his way towards Pemberley House.

On the steps, he stopped and stood still. He was pale, despite the cold which should have brought the red into his cheeks, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he knocked firmly. After a moment, a manservant opened the door and led him down the corridor to Mr. Darcy's office. The servant opened the door and announced Mr. Wakefield, and then Nathaniel was alone with Fitzwilliam Darcy.

He bowed and then stood, firmly. He had done nothing truly wrong and he would not cower before this man.

Darcy had given no reason for his summons in the note he had sent, but Nathaniel had no doubts about the matter. He did not suspect Georgiana of falsely condemning him to Darcy; he knew her too well to entertain such an idea for more than a moment. But Darcy must have found out about their meetings nonetheless.

"Thank you for coming so quickly Wakefield," Darcy began pleasantly, gesturing him to take a chair.

"Of course, sir," Nathaniel replied as he sat down, wondering all the while at his companion's friendly tone.

Darcy continued, "You must be wondering why I requested that you walk here in such unpleasant weather to meet with me. Rest assured that you have been called upon to do so with good cause."

"I do not doubt it sir," Nathaniel responded, his brow furrowed a little in confusion.

Darcy picked up a pen and began toying with it.

"How did the crops fare in the East Section this summer, Wakefield?" he asked after a moment.

Nathaniel's eyes flickered in surprise. "They grew well, sir. Your design for improving the irrigation did wonders for them."

"Good. You do realize that your suggestions regarding the improvements were very useful to Mr. Rutledge and myself, and most of all to the crops."

Nathaniel could not think of anything to say so he remained silent.

Darcy seemed about to speak again, yet he hesitated. He seemed suddenly to take in Nathaniel's haggard look, the pain in his blue eyes and the weariness etched into every line of his face. The lad looked far older than his twenty-four years.

"Are you well, Wakefield?" asked Darcy.

"Quite well sir, thank you," returned Nathaniel quietly.

"I lost my mother too. I know the shock."

"Mine was ill for a long time sir. It must indeed always be a shock. But I did have time to prepare myself for it."

There was a moment of silence. Then Darcy roused himself and said more cheerfully, "Well then, if you are not unwell, I have a proposition for you."

Nathaniel nodded, his mind a confused jumble of thoughts.

Darcy continued, "My cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock, needs a trustworthy steward for his estate in Yorkshire. He has asked me for a recommendation and I, with your permission, would like to recommend you."

Nathaniel started visibly. He had been so sure the conversation would turn to Georgiana that Darcy's words had barely registered at first. Now, a way to escape the pain he was living in was seemingly opened to him. A way to remove himself from sights and sounds which reminded him of those living and dead whom he had lost.

Darcy was continuing. "You are full young for the position. But I have faith in young men. I have to," with a slightly wry smile. "You have had a better education than many are privileged to receive. And, more importantly, you love the land. Mr. Rutledge has spoken to me more than once of you and your desire to learn still more about the work you do. He has even gone so far as to say that he would like to train you someday to take his place as steward here in twenty years or so. I have also meant for some time to offer you one of the farms here, but the tenants who hold them are all worthy men and they cannot be displaced. Now, I am ready to recommend you, with every confidence in your knowledgeability, good sense, and willingness to learn, to my cousin. He will of course, need to meet with you in person before you are assured of the position. But I am offering you my recommendation. Do you accept it?"

Nathaniel sat perfectly still. Time marched on, recorded by a little clock on the desk, which ticked away the seconds, headless of their importance in the life of one young man.

"You may have a week to think it over if you wish," Darcy added. "I am going again to Matlock at the end of that time and must have an answer for my cousin by then.

"That week will not be necessary Mr. Darcy," said Nathaniel suddenly. "I thank you for your very generous offer, and my gratitude extends to Lord Matlock as well. I will do my best to live up to your trust."

"Fine. I shall write to my cousin at once." Darcy smiled as he held out his hand. Nathaniel took it, as if in a dream.

When Darcy smiled, his eyes were like his sister's.

"I would be happy to offer you a seat in my carriage when I go to Matlock if that is agreeable to you." Darcy added. "Then you can meet Lord Matlock in person."

"Thank you, sir. I will be ready."

Nathaniel bowed and left the room.

Georgiana, standing on the staircase above, saw him exit the house. She remained frozen, until he was gone, and then continued slowly down the stairs.

She went into Darcy's office.

"What did Mr. Wakefield come for?" she asked, moving across a bookshelf and running her fingers over the titles before pulling out a book at random.

"I asked him if he would take the job of steward at Matlock if Richard offered it to him," Fitzwilliam replied.

There was a loud thud, as the book Georgiana was holding slipped from her hands and crashed to the ground. Darcy looked up from his writing, momentarily startled.

Georgiana bent to retrieve the book and then returned it to its place.

She waited, but Darcy was writing again.

"And he accepted?" she asked, her voice almost too calm.

"Yes."

"What a fine thing for him," she said slowly.

"It will be a fine thing for Richard too. Mr. Wakefield shows promise of great things."

"Indeed."

Darcy bent his head over his paper again and Georgiana fled.

When she was upstairs and locked in her own room, she sat down on her bed and began to cry quietly, tears rolling down her face and dropping on her hands.

She should be glad he was going. She should be happy for him. It was what he had always wanted and more. And she should be glad too for herself that the painful prospect of seeing him frequently should be so suddenly removed. It was not often that she visited Matlock. She might not see him for years.

It did not stop the pain.

She bitterly regretted telling him she loved him now. But it was too late even for regrets. He was leaving Pemberley. He would go, and he would forget her.

He did not love her.

* * *

A/N: To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I am so sorry it's been SO long since my last update! Life just got crazy busy for a while and then it took me a while to get back into writing. I hope that the next update will be quicker, but I can't make any promises at this point. *hangs head in shame*

On a brighter note, thank you for 100+ followers! I remember thanking you all for that same thing in Chapter 18 of Life at Pemberley, and here we are on Chapter 11, already there! And an extra thank you to Sue (Guest) for being so persistent in asking me for an update and giving me the added motivation to get moving again!

Also...

DISCLAIMER: I know very little about court cases and the legal system, and still less about what they were like in Regency England. I researched the topic as best I could, but I am sure I still made many mistakes. If anyone has any knowledge or advice about these things I would be so grateful if you would fill me in either by PM or review.

As always, I appreciate each and every one of you very, very much. :)

* * *

**Chapter 11: December 1817**

Eight days after his meeting with Darcy, Nathaniel left Pemberley.

He had bidden his friends in the village goodbye the previous day. Among those most affected were Mrs. Moore, Tom, and little Judith. Tom had hidden his sorrow behind a mask of false cheeriness, but Mrs. Moore had tears in her eyes as she pressed his hand and Judith had sobbed bitterly, and clung to his neck with great persistence, until her mother removed her.

Nathaniel had visited his own mother's grave one last time and, in the evening, when it was growing dark, he had walked through the woods and stood by the river for a few minutes. There was only the cold, white snow over the quiet grave, and the cold grey of the half-frozen river, with the two stones on its bank, to return his farewell to the two people he had loved the most.

Early the next morning, the Darcy carriage arrived at his door. Nathaniel insisted on sitting with the coachman, though Darcy had no objection to his riding inside. Three hours in a carriage with Mr. Darcy was not something Nathaniel felt he had the resolution to bear just now. If Georgiana should be mentioned…

He left Pemberley and his heart behind.

* * *

When the carriage reached Matlock, Nathaniel did not accompany Darcy to the great house. It had been decided that his first meeting with his potential employer would be delayed for the present, since Lord Matlock would be occupied all day in York.

Thus, Nathaniel was set down before the steward's house and left to explore it alone. It was empty now, devoid of the childish laughter which had filled it during the years of the Bartlett's residence. It was a fine house, well-built with spacious rooms, but lonely and hollow. His steps echoed despondently on the bare wood floors as he walked. Echoes of things that were and things that might have been.

* * *

Darcy continued on to the Great House, where Richard and Kitty awaited him. Richard was very quiet, and the handshake he offered his cousin and closest friend was accompanied by a long and serious look. Kitty was white with apprehension, but she managed to greet Darcy with a drawn smile and offer him some refreshments before he must spend another four hours in a carriage, traveling to York where the court was being held.

Just before their departure, Kitty ran upstairs to the nursery one final time. When she descended the stairs again her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, but she held her head high and nodded firmly to the gentlemen's unspoken question as to whether she was ready. The question was unspoken for the simple reason that neither Richard or Darcy was in full possession of his voice just then.

* * *

The courtroom was crowded, perhaps more so than usual, for a case to settle a dispute between the nobility was highly unusual in comparison to the far more common criminal trials.

There were seats reserved for the Matlocks and Mr. Darcy and they sat down amid the stares of the onlookers.

A little over ten minutes later, Lady Ashton entered, leaning on Mr. Gangridge's arm. She paused and bowed to Richard and Kitty as she passed by them on her way to her seat across the room, and Richard and Darcy rose and returned the bow. Mr. Gangridge was forced to stop when Lady Ashton stopped, but he offered no salutation of his own.

The High Court Judge entered and took his seat upon the dais. The jury was already assembled, and a moment later, the court was called to order and the case was announced.

"This court has been called upon to determine who has legal and moral right to the guardianship of Miss Farley, only daughter and heiress of the late Lord Farley, son and heir of the late Earl of Ashton. The child's paternal grandmother, The Right Honorable Lady Ashton, contests the right of the child's second cousin, The Right Honorable Lord Matlock, to the child's guardianship."

At the command of the judge, Lady Ashton's barrister, a Mr. Bolter, rose and began his opening statement. "Two years ago, Lord Matlock took the guardianship of Miss Farley upon himself without having the lawful right to do so, and, as I will proceed to show, with naught but his own interests at heart. Lady Ashton, despite having ample reason to feel bitterness towards the Matlocks, is only concerned for her granddaughter's safety and therefore asks for nothing more than that the court be just, and rule that the child may come and remain in her home, where she rightfully belongs."

Mr. Stanton, the barrister whom Richard had engaged, rose to speak. "I will refute the charges you have placed at Lord Matlock's door in good time. I would like to begin by pointing out that he does indeed have a right, both legal and moral, to the child's care. Miss Farley's mother, Lady Farley, requested on her death bed that her cousin, Lord Matlock, take her daughter to raise as his own. Such a touching request cannot help but hold weight with the court. If the child's own mother considered Lord Matlock to be the right choice for her child's protector, how can we presume to know better?"

Mr. Bolter broke in, "This is a court room, sir. A mother's feelings, however tender, can hold no real weight here."

Kitty glanced at Lady Ashton. She was staring straight in front of her, rigid as a statue, her face expressionless. Mr. Gangridge, beside her, was sitting with folded arms, a slight, leering smile affixed to his face.

"I consider them to be a testimony on Lord Matlock's behalf," Mr. Stanton replied. "But his claim does not rest solely on the dying wish of his cousin. After Lady Farley's death, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Miss Farley's maternal grandmother, signed a document officially conferring the rights of guardianship on Lord Matlock. It is witnessed by Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire. I have the document with me and request permission to present it to the court."

Permission was granted, the document was examined, and then Mr. Bolter rose to speak again. "I do not question the authenticity of this document," he began. "I do question its legality. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is no nearer a relative of the child than Lady Ashton. She did not have the right to sign over the child's guardianship to Lord Matlock without the permission of the then living Earl and Lady Ashton.

"You see gentlemen," he continued, now addressing the jury directly. "For the first two years of Miss Farley's life, Lord Matlock kept the knowledge of her existence a secret from her father's family. The Ashtons could not give their permission because they were never asked, nor even made aware that there was such a child."

The other lawyer responded coolly, "Which brings me to my second point. The permission of Lord Ashton _was _asked. A letter was sent by Lord Matlock acquainting him with all the particulars of the matter. He never responded. Does this not signify gross neglect on Lord Ashton's part, rather than on Lord Matlock's? To erase all doubt about the matter, the doctor who attended Lord Ashton in his final illness has testified that said illness did not show troubling signs until six months after the letter was sent. Thus, Lord Ashton's failing to respond cannot be attributed to declining health. What excuse is there then, for receiving such a letter and not acting upon it at once?"

Richard squeezed Kitty's hand.

Mr. Bolter replied, "The letter of which you speak never arrived. There is no mention of it in any of Lord Ashton's documents, neither can it be found among them."

"Nevertheless, it was sent. And thus, there is a possibility that Lord Ashton did receive it and chose not to share its contents with anyone, perhaps even to destroy it."

Richard glanced at his wife. Her eyes were fixed on something and he, following the line of her gaze, saw that she was staring at Mr. Gangridge with a sort of disturbed fascination.

She lifted her free hand and pointed. "Mr. Gangridge—when the letter was first mentioned—his hands started to twitch, as they seem to do when he is nervous."

Darcy, sitting on Richard's other side, was just able to catch Kitty's words, spoken as they were in a low, quiet voice. Mr. Gangridge still had the same, leering smile plastered on his face, but his hands were indeed twitching restlessly.

Although he told himself that there was little likelihood that there was a connection between the letter and Mr. Gangridge's uneasiness, Darcy set himself to watch the man carefully, determined to leave no stone unturned.

"Such claims can proceed no further then speculation. But in reality, the loss of the letter is of little importance," Mr. Bolter said dismissively. "What is more significant is that Lord Matlock sent one letter and then made no further efforts to contact the family. I am sure the court will find that the motives he had for doing so are as easily explained as they are far from honorable."

Here he paused for effect before beginning his narrative. "Lord Matlock has only very recently come into his title and property. Two years ago, he was a simple colonel, a younger son with no prospect of inheriting anything. After the death of his cousin, Anne Farley, Colonel Fitzwilliam convinced his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to give him the guardianship of the infant. This is as Mr. Stanton has said. But along with that responsibility, Colonel Fitzwilliam received complete and total charge of Rosings Park, the de Bourgh estate. One wonders why a then unmarried man would want to become guardian of an infant, but one does not have to think very hard to see what would be appealing to a poor Colonel about a free estate. One can easily see that he would not wish to lose the guardianship of the child to her other family when his prosperity depended on her property."

Richard's jaw was clenched tightly shut, but in every other way his face remained perfectly calm as the barrister sat down and his own lawyer stood up to speak.

"Lord Matlock had no knowledge that Lady Catherine de Bourgh would give him the management of Rosings Park when he accepted charge of the child from her dying mother."

"Were there any witnesses to the words of Lady Anne Farley to Lord Matlock regarding her child?"

"No. The lady passed away before witnesses could be summoned. But I call upon Lord Matlock to testify to her words. Will you, Lord Matlock, please step forward to the witness stand?"

Richard rose and made his way to the place beside the dais. He was sworn in, and then he stood, waiting his lawyer's questions.

"Lord Matlock, since you are your only witness in this case, I call upon you to disclose the truth before God and this court. Did Lady Farley say anything to you which would suggest that Rosings Park would be yours upon your acceptance of the child's guardianship?"

"She did not." Richard spoke clearly and calmly.

"Was it in your mind to gain the estate through the child?"

"It was not. It was Lady Catherine who first suggested the idea, three days after I had accepted the child's care from her mother."

"Do I have the court's permission to ask Lord Matlock a question?" Lady Ashton's lawyer queried. When he had received the desired approval, he addressed Richard, asking, "Were there any witnesses to the conversation between you and Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

"_I _am a witness to that conversation."

Mr. Bolter spun around hastily, and all eyes turned to see an elderly woman, dressed sumptuously in furs and jewels, standing in the doorway of the courtroom.

"Lady Catherine," Richard was the first to break the silence. "How is it that you are here?"

"I heard of the shameful and _false _accusations brought against you and came as fast as I could to do what I can to refute them."

Darcy, sitting by Richard's vacant chair, bit back a smile. Would his aunt ever tire of making sudden and unexpected visitations?

Mr. Stanton took the unanticipated arrival in stride while Mr. Bolter was still gawking with the rest of the crowd. "Are you prepared to verify Lord Matlock's testimony on this matter?" he asked.

"I am." Lady Catherine walked over to the witness stand where Richard still stood.

"Aunt Catherine," he began in a low voice, so as not to be heard by all in the room. "This is most unexpected. But your arrival is most timely. I… I thank you for coming."

"You have nothing to thank me for," Lady Catherine said. "I was simply livid with rage when they told me what you were undergoing and what scandalous accusations have been brought against you." Her voice began to rise in volume and Richard remonstrated hastily.

"Hush, Aunt. The accusations are not so terrible as you suggest. The consequences of them… the consequences may be heartbreaking indeed."

Mr. Bolter interrupted, "My lord, I object to this private conversation."

Richard hesitated, but he knew it was wiser not to speak again, even if only to thank her, so he pressed her hand quickly and retired to his seat.

Lady Catherine stood in the place he had vacated and looked out almost scornfully at the crowd. She flicked an invisible piece of dust of the stand and then looked at Mr. Stanton expectantly.

The barrister waited until the clerk had assisted Lady Catherine in taking the oath and then he asked, "Were you indeed the first one to request that Lord Matlock take control of Rosings Park?"

"Of course I was. My nephew asked only for an allowance for my granddaughter, sufficient to allow her to be brought up as a gentlewoman. But I wished to remove to London, and thus I requested that he take on the care of Rosings as well as the care of the child."

"Thank you, Lady Catherine." The lawyer's smile was genuine. "Will you take a seat beside Mr. Darcy?"

Lady Catherine did as she was asked.

Lady Ashton's barrister had recovered by this time. He stepped forward and said briskly, "Whether or not Lord Matlock wished to gain the estate for himself at the very first, I am convinced that it was an inducement later on for making very little effort to make the child's existence known to her father's family."

"Sir," Mr. Stanton's voice was cold, "since that accusation suggests that Lord Matlock cares nothing for the child and only for her money, how do you explain the fact that he is here in court today, fighting for her, when he is now in possession of his own fortune and has no need of hers?" His voice became warmer and louder as he continued, "Does this not suggest the care and interest of a man who cares for and loves the child as his own rather than the actions of a greedy guardian only seeking his own gain?"

"The fact that he has no need of her fortune is no reason to suppose he does not wish to possess it. History is full of men who had incredible fortunes and still coveted more. Indeed, perhaps he even now has his mind set on a larger prize than Rosings Park. Who can say that it has not been in his mind all along to seize control of the Ashton estate on the death of her ladyship?"

Mr. Stanton looked inquiringly at Richard, who nodded once.

Turning back to face his adversary, Mr. Stanton said, "Lord Matlock has enabled me to make a proposition on his behalf. He is prepared to sign documents, stating that he will never interfere with or try to gain control of the Ashton estate. Lady Ashton may appoint a manager of her own choice, to direct all its affairs until Miss Farley is of age. But Miss Farley must remain under the sole care of the Matlocks."

Mr. Bolter turned to Lady Ashton, "We await your answer Madam."

Darcy, watching Mr. Gangridge, saw that gentleman's eyes start out of his head at Mr. Stanton's speech. Darcy was fully aware that the proposal was simply intended to show the court Richard's disinterest in the Ashton estate. He knew what Lady Ashton's reply would be, but he also saw that, had Mr. Gangridge been the one called upon to speak, the answer would have been very different than the one that now fell from Lady Ashton's lips.

She had risen, almost unsteadily to her feet and said, in as firm a voice as she could muster, "My reply is no, sir."

Darcy saw Mr. Gangridge fix his aunt with a look bordering on pure hatred. However little he could condone her selfishness in trying to take away a child from a family who loved her, Lady Ashton was a woman after all, and Darcy's brows drew together angrily at the contempt in her nephew's glare.

"There is your answer, and by it, Lady Ashton's concern and love for her granddaughter is doubly proven," Mr. Bolter said.

"It is true—what he says," Kitty whispered, and Richard, turning to look at her, saw that there were two tears running down her face.

"And," Mr. Bolter continued, "that the Matlocks wish to prevent her from sharing in Miss Farley's childhood is equally obvious by the terms they have given. Lady Ashton has been most unfairly used by them. Lord Matlock sent one letter only! And he cannot produce proof even for the existence of that."

Lady Catherine huffed angrily at the way in which Mr. Bolter had twisted Mr. Stanton's words back at him, but Darcy was again focused on Mr. Gangridge. The gentleman's hands had twitched again at the word "letter". Darcy's knitted brows raised thoughtfully.

But Mr. Bolter had not finished. He continued forcefully, "That such cruel deception was practiced against Lady Ashton, such that could allow her to remain in the dark to her grandchild's existence for a year and a half, is alone, without need for further searching, reason enough for her to demand that Miss Farley be taken from the Matlocks and given into her care."

Mr. Stanton paused, considering what to reply, but before he could, the judge banged on the gavel. All eyes were instantly upon him.

"We have heard enough today gentlemen," he said in his ponderous voice."This case will be reopened in two days' time on the ninth of December, the year of Our Lord 1817."

"Allow me to say a few more words, my lord," Mr. Stanton requested.

"Request denied. This case is closed until the date specified."

Mr. Stanton bowed. Mr. Gangridge smiled.

The tense knot that had rested in Kitty's stomach all day tightened still more. She looked desperately towards the jury, hoping to catch a look of sympathy on at least one face. But the hour was growing late, it was the last case of the day, and most seemed simply eager to leave the courtroom and return to their homes. Her thoughts in a turmoil and her legs shaking with the strain of the day, she rose and allowed Richard to guide her out of the building and to their waiting carriage.

* * *

Darcy, realizing that Kitty and Richard would very likely wish to be alone after such an ordeal, and out of genuine gratitude for her aid, performed an act of heroic charity and rode back to Matlock with Lady Catherine in her carriage.

She talked relentlessly of how shocking she found the whole matter to be, and when she had worn out that subject after a mere two hours, she began a seemingly endless narration about her many London acquaintances. Darcy's sacrifice extended only so far as listening, and not to making conversation in return. He was quiet and thoughtful all the way home, only speaking when it was necessary to respond to her enquiries about the family at Pemberley, and even then his answers were brief and somewhat distant.

* * *

It was after sunset when the weary party arrived at Matlock. Lady Catherine retired immediately to a guest room, and Darcy did likewise. The aunt slept soundly in her room, tired out at last from her long day of travel, but the nephew sat by his fire for a long time, staring into it. He had promised Kitty that her daughter would not be taken from her while he or any who loved her had ought to say about it. He must keep his word. He could not sleep until some solution had been found. He stared into the fire as if he hoped it might give him the answer. Perhaps it did.

* * *

Richard went to his study and worked doggedly away at business letters for half an hour, before throwing down his pen and heading upstairs.

He went to first to the nursery and stopped beside James, smiling a little despite his heavy heart as he gazed upon the cherubic countenance of his sleeping son. Then he crossed the room to Cathy's little bed. Her curls were a tumbled mess about her little face, and one arm was flung out wide, as was her wont in sleep.

He was reminded, as he had been often of late, of the moment when he first saw her. She had been so tiny, so helpless. She had been fatherless, soon to be motherless. He had reached out and she had grasped his finger and held tight. And in that instant, he had loved her. And he had promised her, in his heart, that, while he drew breath, she should never be fatherless again. He could not break that promise now.

* * *

Kitty prepared for bed, and then lay down to try and sleep, but every time she closed her eyes the courtroom glowed before her, and her ears rang with the loud murmuring of remembered fragments of speech. She bore it for ten minutes and then rose and began to pace the room restlessly. She felt trapped in her own mind. There were too many thoughts, and too much pain lurking just behind them.

Impatiently, she crossed the room to the door of the balcony attached to her chamber and threw it open. She stepped out into the cold night and looked out over the silver lines which made up the frosty landscape, illuminated as it was by a full moon. The moon lit up her figure too, as she stood there, ghostlike in her white gown. She leaned her elbows on the marble balustrade and let her tired head rest in her hands. Gradually, the peace of the night stilled the swirling thoughts in her mind, and she began to weep quietly, letting the pain wash over her, hot tears rolling down her pale cheeks and dropping through her fingers onto the balustrade and to the ground far below. The only sound that of a mother's heart breaking.

She heard a noise behind her, and Richard's arm closed around her waist.

"Kitty, you'll catch your death of cold."

He pulled her inside, closing the door firmly and drawing the heavy curtains together to ward off any drafts.

"What were you thinking Kitty?"

He turned to her protectively, expecting to find her penitent, steeling himself to find her crying, but though tears were indeed shining on her cheeks, she was smiling through them. For as she had stood there in the winter night, everything had fallen away and the truth had shone clear like a beacon before her, and now she knew without a doubt what she must do.

Head, hand, and heart were in place. They needed only to wait for the morning.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I debated breaking this chapter up into two to better match the lengths of previous chapters, but I decided in the end to give it all to you at once as a thank-you-gift for waiting so long for these latest installments. :)

* * *

**Chapter 12:**

There was nothing more than a faint orange streak in the frosty eastern sky when Richard made his way downstairs the following morning, with a lighter step then had been his wont for many days. He went into his study, where he found his cousin standing by the window.

"I know you are accustomed to rising early, Darcy, but I would have thought you would have been worn out this morning," Richard observed.

Darcy shrugged a little. "I was unable to find much rest," he said. "But I did have an idea, Richard."

Richard looked at him expectantly, and when Darcy hesitated, he demanded, "Tell me Darcy."

"I cannot be completely certain of course, but I have very strong suspicions about Mr. Gangridge."

"Who among us does not?" Richard asked, a note of bitterness returning to his voice.

"I am referring specifically to his behavior in relation to the letter you sent Lord Ashton."

"Kitty commented on that as well."

"Yes, it was her words which set me thinking."

"Come Darcy." Richard's tone was now impatient. "Out with it. Do not keep me in suspense."

Five minutes later, Richard was acquainted with the thoughts which had come to Darcy during his vigil. Darcy finished, "If I was to confront Mr. Gangridge thus, all it would take is one blunder for him to be completely discredited in the eyes of the law and, I trust, Lady Ashton as well."

"It might be true, Darcy. It might work," Richard said, his voice alive with hope.

"But Richard," Darcy said soberly. "While proving Mr. Gangridge's guilt might well remove the threat of _him_ controlling Cathy's life, such a revelation will not necessarily bring about a softening towards you in Lady Ashton and would ultimately provide no real hinderance to her claiming Cathy."

Richard smiled a little. "Kitty has her own ideas about Lady Ashton, as you will hear when she comes down. No, I can't explain it to you. I will let her do that. In truth, I hardly understand her myself. But she is determined, and I have faith in her. I can't explain that either… but I do."

"You do not need to explain that," Darcy said with a slight smile. "Your wife is a remarkable woman, and one I am proud to call sister."

* * *

Three hours later, in the late morning of that cold December day, when the sun was hidden behind the white curtain that was the winter sky, a young noblewoman wearing a dark blue cloak with a large hood, was admitted by a servant into the waiting room at Ashton. She volunteered no name, and, when the maid came back to say that Lady Ashton would see her caller, she went in to the grand parlor alone.

Lady Ashton, the only other occupant of the room, for Mr. Gangridge had been seen driving off in the Ashton carriage only a quarter-hour before, was sitting in her engulfing armchair, before a small fire. She looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Who is it who has come to call?" she queried.

Her visitor did not reply, but stepped closer, and pushed back her hood to reveal her face.

"Lady Matlock? Why, I did not expect you—"

Lady Ashton's startled exclamations were cut short as Kitty took a final step forward, so that she was nearly touching the chair, and dropped to her knees before her.

The old woman stared down at her in astonishment. "Lady Matlock? What is the meaning of this? Why are you —?"

"Lady Ashton," Kitty broke in. "I come to you, not as your enemy, but as one suffering mother to another. Please think of me thus, and listen to what I have to say.

She raised her head here and her lips were trembling, and her blue eyes were full of tears which hung on her lashes, glittering gold in the light of the fire.

"What do you want?" Lady Ashton asked, her voice high and a little shaky.

Kitty's next words were as gentle as they were unexpected. "Lady Ashton… you loved your son, didn't you?"

The woman turned her face away.

"You loved him so incredibly much. Even when you look away, I can see it on your face," Kitty murmured, her voice thoughtful, almost tender. Then, her voice shaking with sudden intensity, "Dear God, how could I have been so stubborn that I waited so long?"

"What do you mean? Why are you saying all this?"

Kitty hesitated, and then said quietly, "It is difficult to explain… but… last night, I allowed myself to truly feel the pain that losing my child would bring. Always, in the last two months, I have pushed it away, and fought it down. I was afraid it would crush me, and indeed, I had reason to fear it, for it was pain such as I have never before felt in my life. But it was then that I realized that you feel that pain every day. And I found that to blame you for wishing to relieve such pain in your own heart was impossible. I wish now for you to know that I understand, and do not hold any bitterness against you."

"You think you comprehend my motives then?" Lady Ashton's voice quivered as she spoke, and her hands shook a little.

"I know I do."

"Tell me what you think they are."

Kitty paused for a moment, and then said slowly, "I know that there is a void in your heart which you desperately wish to fill. You tried to fill it, but you failed. It is still there, because Mr. Gangridge can never take your son's place. And your only hope now is that Cathy, his daughter, will be the one creature in the world who can fill it."

"How do you understand these things?" There was wonder, disbelief, fear, and indeed, overwhelming pain which she could not hide in the old woman's voice.

"I too am a mother. But… I have not yet told you what I truly wish you to know, Lady Ashton."

Lady Ashton looked at her strange visitor expectantly. The young woman's face was white, and her eyes still shone with unshed, golden tears.

Her next words were barely more than a whisper. "Your son died saving my husband's life."

The mother drew a quick, shuddering breath.

"Your son came back for my husband, when the other soldiers ran and Richard was left behind, wounded and to all appearances lost. So, you see, I owe your son a debt beyond that which can be repaid on this earth."

Lady Ashton began to weep quietly.

Kitty took her hands in her own. "Lady Ashton, I _love _Catherine with all the love a mother's heart is capable of, a love you well know, for her own sake. But I love her too as the daughter of a man who I am eternally indebted too." She stopped. She could not have continued if she wished to.

There was silence, and then Lady Ashton began to speak, slowly and painfully. "He was a bright boy… and his father sent him away to boarding school when he was only nine years old. I cried for days, and for years the sight of a boy his age would nearly bring me to tears. His leaving for school broke my heart, but it was nothing to the way I suffered when he came home after completing his education and told us that he wanted to be a solder. Of course, we objected strongly, but nothing would sway his determination and before I had him back for a twelvemonth, he was gone off to the army. He came home once after that, to tell to tell us that he was to be married. I met his wife at the wedding. She seemed a frail little thing, but I was willing to accept her in time, for his sake. Then he was gone again, to France, and I never saw him again."

She paused and then, "Matthew was my only child and I loved him. Why was he taken from me so soon?" The last words were a cry of anguish from somewhere deep inside.

"I do not know," Kitty said simply, her tears overflowing her eyes at last. "But I wonder sometimes. Cathy's mother died, her father died, and yet both her mother and father were irrevocably connected to my husband—her mother was his cousin, her father, the man who died for him. I cannot help but think sometimes that that God himself must have wanted Richard to be Cathy's father. Everything conspired to bring her into our home. Our lives were forever changed by her. I might not be married to my husband were it not for Cathy. We have given her a family and she has made that family what it is. I cannot help but believe in my heart that this is how it was meant to be."

"And am I meant to be alone? To live out the remainder of my life with no one to think of and love me?"

"No Lady Ashton," Kitty said urgently. "In asking me this, you ask me why I have come. If you will accept us as such, I wish to offer you a place in our family."

"I do not understand you."

"We want you. We want Cathy to know and love you. But we wish to offer you not only a granddaughter, but a son and daughter and a grandson as well." Kitty paused here, and then finished in a soft voice, "I know this is very sudden… God forgive me for not offering it sooner… but can you find it in your heart to forgive us, and take us as your family?"

Lady Ashton looked bewildered for a moment, and then leaned forward, doubting still, but willing that the doubts should be removed. "Mr. Gangridge and my lawyer insist you cannot care for me or my granddaughter."

"We were wrong, so wrong, in not reaching out to you. But we thought you were the one who simply did not care. I know now that you do care. And, I care… we care… so very, very much."

Lady Ashton paused again. Then, "You would… have me? Even after everything that has happened?"

Kitty looked up into the face above her and light and truth shone in her eyes.

"Yes."

Lady Ashton began to sob afresh. "I have been so cruel to you. I tried to do the very thing to you that broke me. I do not deserve your compassion and your pity."

"Then do not accept them. But accept our love."

"You cannot love me."

"Can I not?" asked Kitty, and she rose and bent forward and took the old woman's face in her hands and kissed her forehead gently. She had only time to straighten again, before Lady Ashton struggled to her feet and threw her arms around her neck.

They held each other for many minutes, as Lady Ashton wept and Kitty held her gently with misty eyes raised to heaven in gratitude.

At last, Lady Ashton sank back down into her chair. "I am a foolish old woman," she said. "But you have brought me peace, Lady Matlock—"

"Kitty," the lady of that name protested.

"Kitty," with a faint smile. "A peace which I never thought I should find again."

Kitty pulled a chair close to the old woman's armchair and sat down upon it.

Leaning close to Lady Ashton and laying a hand on her arm, she said, "I am afraid that there is one thing I must ask of you before we welcome you wholeheartedly into our lives."

"What is that?" Lady Ashton said, and there was none of the nervousness in her voice that Kitty had anticipated.

"The price that we demand is that you give up Mr. Gangridge, for we cannot accept him so easily into our family."

"You think he is so very undeserving? I do not agree with everything he says and does, but he seems to have my best interests at heart."

"Perhaps…" Kitty hesitated. It was a risk after all. "There may be a way to prove to you that he wishes nothing but his own gain, at the expense of others."

It was done, and Kitty held her breath waiting for Lady Ashton's reply.

"Well, I should very much like to know how you intend to accomplish this."

Kitty smiled in relief. "Well, I shall need you to answer a few questions to begin with, if you are willing."

Lady Ashton returned the smile.

"Ask them."

* * *

Winter dusk had come, and the light was fading fast from outside the windows at Ashton. Mr. Gangridge, newly returned from a meeting with his lawyer, stopped by the table to pour himself a glass of brandy. He was satisfied with the previous day's outcome. It had perhaps not gone as smoothly as he would have liked, but he was confident that the morrow would bring about the results he desired.

He smiled contentedly to himself. Within a few weeks he would be master of this house. He would see to it that Lady Ashton did not offer any resistance to his management, and at any rate, she was not likely to live much longer. The child could be sent to boarding school in a few years and kept there until she was sixteen or seventeen. Of course, the time would eventually come when she married or reached her majority and demanded he hand over her inheritance. But there was time enough to think of that. Many things could happen in fifteen years.

The sound of the open door clicking shut behind him made him start violently.

"Who is there?" he called out, raising the crystal decanter as if it was a weapon.

"It is Fitzwilliam Darcy," replied the gentleman of that name, stepping out of the shadows by the door, and into the dim light of the one lamp in the center of the room.

"Mr. Darcy? What are you doing here at this time of night? This is very unusual!"

"I was hoping to have a chance to speak to you privately before tomorrow's assembly."

"Is it not rather too late for that?" asked the other gentleman with a sneer.

"I think not."

The sneer was replaced with a calculating look. But when Mr. Gangridge spoke it was with an air of contrived carelessness. "Very well. But I hope you will make it quick, sir. I am fatigued and wish to retire."

"I do not foresee this interview taking an undue amount of time," Darcy replied coolly.

"Good." Mr. Gangridge moved to sit down in a chair, glanced up at Darcy's towering form and thought better of it. "What do you want with me?" he snapped.

"Answers."

Mr. Gangridge narrowed his eyes. "What kinds of answers?"

Darcy seemed to deliberate a moment, and then asked, "Did you ever visit here before Lord Ashton's death?"

"Yes of course I did. I am a nephew of Lord Ashton, and as such I have always been welcome, which is more than I can say for you, sir."

"When was your last visit before this one?" asked Darcy, unfazed by any and all insults.

"A few years ago. I came to pay my condolences shortly after Lord Farley met his end at the battle of Waterloo. I fail to see what—"

"And how long did you stay for?" Darcy interrupted.

A few weeks. I don't remember."

"Lady Ashton suggested longer."

Mr. Gangridge stared at his companion for a moment. Then he raised an accusatory finger and shook it at Darcy. "You have been questioning Lady Ashton privately. This is illegal! Servant!"

"Lady Ashton said that you were four months in this house in the autumn and early winter of 1815," Darcy pressed. "Is this true?"

"I refuse to have any further part in this interrogation. And where the h*** are the servants?"

"Since you will not confirm or deny the fact," Darcy said, ignoring the latter part of Mr. Gangridge's speech yet again, "I am forced to rely on my previous information which tells me that you would have been in this house at the exact time when my letter should have arrived."

"The letter never arrived," Mr. Gangridge snapped, but his hands were twitching.

He looked around, as if for a means of escape, but there was only the one door and Mr. Darcy was between it and himself. At the back of the room, there was a large alcove, with heavy brocaded curtains blocking it off from the main portion of the room, but Mr. Gangridge knew that it was a two story drop from its window to the frozen ground outside, and he was not desperate enough to attempt such a risky mode of flight.

"The certainty with which you make that statement intrigues me," Darcy replied. "How can you be so sure?"

"I see your plan!" cried Mr. Gangridge, smacking the table with both hands. "You think you will discover the letter in my possession, but you will never find it!"

"Never find it in your possession or never find it at all?" Darcy asked quickly.

Mr. Gangridge paused and then a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "After all," he said. "It matters little if you know or not. If you or your precious cousin tries to denounce me, you will look like desperate fools. You think you will find the letter. Ha! You will never find it because I destroyed it! And with it I destroyed your evidence!"

"Sir, did I hear you correctly?" Darcy asked with great deliberation and calm. "You… destroyed… the letter."

"I did! I took it from Lord Ashton's desk and kept it for over a year. He never saw its contents. Just before I accused you to the court, I burned it. You will never find it at Ashton or my home."

"It appears that you have confessed to an illegal action. Taking another man's mail and destroying it for your own personal gain."

Mr. Gangridge smiled maliciously again. "As I said before, you have no proof and you will never get any."

"But a confession such as this should eliminate all need for proof."

"You have no witnesses. No one will believe you at court and I will swear that you lie if need be. It will be your word against mine and the court is sympathetic to Lady Ashton."

"And I have every confidence that Lady Ashton is sympathetic to me." As Darcy spoke, the curtain before the alcove was thrown open and Richard stood there, along with a local magistrate, and Kitty and Lady Ashton herself.

"You have betrayed me, Edgar Gangridge," she said in a trembling voice, "I was convinced you were acting in my best interests and the best interests of my granddaughter. I was deceived, not by the Matlocks as you claimed, but by you. Go! Leave my presence and do not return."

"Not so fast," Richard said quickly. "You must forgive us for the delay Lady Ashton, but we are not quite through with him."

"I do not wish to see him," Lady Ashton said. Her face and voice were equally spent and weary, as was only natural after such a day of revelations, and suddenly she swayed and might have fallen if Darcy and Kitty had not been standing close enough to steady her.

Richard's eye caught a flash of movement. Mr. Gangridge had been quietly moving towards the door during this short interval, and now, with greater agility than Richard would have given him credit for, he whipped out the door and slammed it behind him. Drawing a pistol from within his coat, Richard ran to the door, flung it wide and sped down the hall towards the grand staircase. From the top of the stairs, he saw Mr. Gangridge's retreating form reach the front door and wrench it open. Richard raced down the steps, two at a time, and burst out onto into the cold winter night, just in time to see Mr. Gangridge slip on the last icy marble step and fall to his knees on the ground.

Richard stopped, and leveled his gun at the unfortunate man, just scrambling to his knees, six steps below him.

"Run again, and I will be forced to fire upon you," Richard said, his pistol steady, even in the flickering light of the torches which illuminated the entrance with their strange, dancing light.

The magistrate had arrived beside him by this time—Darcy having been further detained in assisting Lady Ashton—and with his own gun at the ready, descended the steps and quickly skirted around Mr. Gangridge so that he could cover him from the other side.

Only when the magistrate had shackled Mr. Gangridge's hands behind his back did Richard lower his pistol.

"You are now charged, Mr. Gangridge, not only with destroying another man's mail, but also with attempt to avoid arrest," the magistrate told him. "Not that you need anything added. The theft of another man's mail is a crime punishable by death."

"Hold," cried Richard. "I do not wish to prosecute him."

"But Lord Matlock—"

"I said I do not wish him prosecuted," Richard said again, more sternly this time. "I only wish him to be detained long enough to hear my conditions. However, when my letter reached Ashton it became the property of Lord Ashton. You must ask his widow if she wishes to prosecute the offender."

He turned to see Kitty hurrying down the stairs towards him with a white face, and behind her Darcy with Lady Ashton leaning heavily on his arm.

"Lady Ashton, do you wish to prosecute Mr. Gangridge?" the magistrate asked.

There was a long pause as she descended the remaining steps. When she reached the bottom, she hesitated. Then, "No. As I said before I only wish to have him out of my sight."

"Lady Ashton is very gracious to you considering the poor return for her patronage you have shown," Richard said, addressing Mr. Gangridge coldly. "But now you will hear my terms. You will leave this part of the country forthwith, and you will never intrude yourself on Lady Ashton's notice again. If I hear so much as a whiff of complaint against you from her ladyship, I will see that you are hunted down and duly punished for your past crimes. Is this acceptable to you, Lady Ashton?"

She nodded.

"Will you abide by these terms, sir?" turning to Mr. Gangridge once more.

That gentleman nodded, sullenly enough.

"I would certainly do so if I were you," Richard said coldly. Then, addressing the magistrate, "Please have one of your men escort him out of the county."

"Well Lord Matlock, this is all rather unusual," the magistrate said. "But I'll do as you say, sir."

"Wait a moment, magistrate," Lady Ashton called. "Please inform my lawyers, Mr. Morrison and Mr. Bolter, that I intend to drop all charges against Lord Matlock. And," she hesitated only the barest fraction of a second, "that I withdraw my claim for Miss Farley's guardianship."

"As your ladyship wishes," returned the magistrate.

Mr. Gangridge was given a horse. Its bridal was tied to the magistrate's saddle, and thus, he was led off.

Kitty turned to Lady Ashton and took her hands. "Thank you," she managed to whisper through the tears that were choking her voice.

"You deserve her," Lady Ashton said suddenly.

It was a moment before Kitty could speak again, and when she could she asked, "Will you come and see her tomorrow?"

"No indeed," Lady Ashton protested. "You will not want company so soon."

"But you are not company," Kitty reminded her, smiling through her tears. "You are family, remember?"

Lady Ashton smiled too. "Then I will come," she said. "And now I insist that you be off. It is late, and only right that you should want to be going home."

"If your Ladyship permits, I will escort you to the door of your chambers," Darcy, who had been standing quietly by all the while, now put in.

"Indeed, I shall be grateful of your arm again sir," she replied wearily.

Darcy turned to Richard. "Don't wait for me," he said. "I have Ulysses and I shall follow soon enough."

Soon he and Lady Ashton had disappeared into the house.

Richard took Kitty's hand but neither spoke until the carriage was brought round and they had entered and were driving away from the house. Then he drew her to him in a rush, and held her close as she whispered, "She is ours," and "Oh, thank God! Thank God!" over and over, as tears of relief and joy continued to run down her face.

By and by Kitty recovered herself a little and sat up beside him, though he kept an arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

With his other hand Richard cupped her face and looked into her eyes. "You have done it Kitty," he said in a low, unsteady voice.

"You did just as much as I," she protested. "And Darcy too. I will be forever grateful to him for all he has done."

"But it was your heart, Kitty, that won the day. Without you…" Richard trailed off, suddenly finding the English language entirely inadequate for saying all that was in his own heart. He could only stare at her silently, and Kitty could feel his arm tremble about her waist.

"Why are you looking at me so?" she asked.

"Because I love you," Richard told her. Her reply was lost as his lips closed over hers.

* * *

Kitty ran up the stairs and into the nursery. The nurse was in the other room, preparing James for bed. Cathy was sitting on the floor in her nightdress, playing with her doll.

The little girl jumped to her feet at the sound of her mother's footsteps and ran forward, and Kitty met her halfway and caught her up in an almost suffocating embrace.

Cathy laughed and squirmed. Kitty released her to cup the little face in both her hands, the flaming red curls falling through her fingers. "You are staying with Mama, Cathy. You are staying with me."

Richard watching from the doorway, was suddenly aware of a moisture about his eyes and a choked feeling in his throat.

Kitty turned and looked at him. Picking Cathy up, she walked over to him and put her arm around his neck. He folded them both into his arms.

* * *

A/N #2: Well, I'm an emotional wreck now. *laughs through tears* If I succeeded in making any of you an emotional wreck at any point during this chapter, please let me know so I don't have to be lonely as well as disoriented, overwrought, and exhausted. XD

I wanted to tell you a little about my thought process while writing this plot line. Originally, Lady Ashton was the villain. But she simply refused to be a villain, and thus the scene near the start of this chapter was born and is now one of my favorite scenes in this story so far. As I was writing the court case and Mr. Gangridge's confession I started getting really frustrated with how messy it all felt. Some things felt too complicated and others too simple and I didn't quite know how to wrap it all up. But I gradually realized that that was ok. Because that's how life is. That's how court cases are. And in the end, it was Kitty's love that conquered.

I played around with how to say this for a while. But I decided in the end that it had already been said better than I could in a million years. Whether you are a Christian or not, I think you will agree with the thought. :)

_Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. _

_Love never fails. _

~ 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you all so much for your incredible reviews on the last chapter! They made me very, very happy. And shoutout to Saralee for being the 100th reviewer!

I did see that quite a few of you wanted Mr. Gangrene (shoutout to Deanna27 for the nickname!) to be more severely punished. My excuse is that I just didn't think either Richard or Lady Matlock were type to condemn a man to hanging (which was the punishment for theft of mail in those days) when there was no real harm done in the end. :)

* * *

**Chapter 13: February – March 1818**

It was February, and Georgiana was in London. She was staying with the Bingleys, at her own insistence, while Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam remained behind at Pemberley. At first she had suggested, timidly enough, that they all remain in Derbyshire, which idea Darcy did not object to. Lizzy however, did. She worried about Georgiana's listlessness and loss of color during the late fall and early winter months and, while she could not be certain, she hoped that the activity and bustle of the season in Town would revive her. Georgiana was afraid to protest anymore on her own behalf, but she did beg Lizzy to remain at Pemberley and rest. Elizabeth did not want to comply at first, but there was no denying that her third pregnancy was taking its toll on her and although she was happy, she was not often comfortable. So, in the end, she agreed to Georgiana's plan, and Georgiana traveled down to London with Jane, Mr. Bingley and their little daughter Anna.

Kitty was not in London either that year, for the family at Matlock had elected to remain there for the winter, having endured so much upheaval recently that they were quite content to remain quietly in the country.

In a way it was a relief to Georgiana to be away from those who knew and loved her best. The initial pain which accompanied Nathaniel's rejection and departure had been violent and terrible, and the need to hide that pain behind an exterior cheerful enough to fool her brother and Elizabeth had made those first few months after her heartbreak the hardest of her life. Jane was very kind, and Georgiana truly enjoyed her society, but she could be still and silent in Jane's company without attracting any undue attention.

* * *

Georgiana had attended three balls since her arrival, and now she was at her fourth. There were crowds of people all around her, but she had never felt so alone.

"Miss Darcy?"

It was the Duke of Rushworth's second son, the Lord Edward Norton.

"Lord Edward, how good to see you," Georgiana returned his greeting, the words dry in her mouth.

"And you Miss Darcy. May I claim you for this next dance?"

"If you wish it, sir." Her voice sounded uninterested, even to her own ears.

Lord Edward led her to the line of couples. They began the dance.

"You seem pensive, Miss Darcy. What can I say to bring out that lovely smile of yours?"

Georgiana tried to smile, and she must have succeeded for he said, "There now, that is somewhat better, isn't it?"

They went through the next several steps of the dance in silence.

"How was your summer, Miss Darcy? Any pleasant trips? Any memorable occasions?"

Georgiana's thoughts raced, distracting her so much that her step faltered, and she nearly lost her place in the dance. "We visited our cousins, Lord and Lady Matlock, in the spring," she said hastily.

"Ah yes. I accompanied my mother on a visit to your aunt, Lady Catherine, several days ago, and they spoke of the confrontation between Lady Ashton and your noble cousins. Lord Matlock must be very happy it was all settled with so little fuss in the end."

"He is happy to have his daughter with him still."

"His daughter? You mean his cousin's child surely."

"I do not see any reason she should not be called his daughter, if he loves and cares for her as his own," Georgiana said, forgetting that, in London, a lady did not speak her mind to a gentleman whom she was not intimately acquainted with.

Lord Edward laughed. "Why, you have very decided ideas for a young woman. I would advise you not to bother your golden head with such weighty thoughts, Miss Darcy."

Georgiana bit her tongue and was silent.

The dance moved them apart for a few moments, and when they were facing each other again Lord Edward asked, "Shall we return to the topic of your summer adventures?"

"I spent a great deal of time this summer becoming better acquainted with the people who live on my brother's land," Georgiana replied, although what possessed her she knew not.

"Indeed?" Lord Edward seemed surprised. "The parson and his wife perhaps..." He frowned. "Forgive me, but you do not seem to me to be the kind of young lady who is prone to spiritual fits."

"Not the parson and his wife. I was referring to the people who live in Pemberley's village, the tenants who work the land."

"The tenants?" There was a note of shock in his voice now. But amusement, real or pretended, soon gained the upper hand once more, and he laughed slightly and said flippantly, "And did you find their society diverting?"

"I found it to be very educational."

"I am sure they had much to teach you," he said in the same tone, filled with irony.

The dance ended and Georgiana curtsied low. "My sister, Mrs. Darcy, has taught me to enjoy studying character, sir. One finds true examples of it in the most unlikely places."

As the Lord Edward Norton walked off, he shook his head sadly. A pity such a beautiful girl, and from such a good family too, had turned out so odd.

* * *

Many of Georgiana's conversations and dances were more pleasant than that the one with Lord Edward, but in none of the gentlemen she met with did she find what she was looking for. This was perhaps not always the gentleman's fault, for in truth, she was looking for Nathaniel in every face and every mind. She never found him, and none measured up accordingly.

She went about her life in London as she had always done. But even there, where she could be her shyest and most withdrawn, her suffering did not cease. The first violent emotions had passed, and in their place there was a hollow, empty hole in her heart, weighing her down until it seemed impossible, even foolish to go on fighting it. Anyone who has endured long separation from a loved one will comprehend her pain. The heart knows that a piece of itself is missing and the empty ache is in accordance with that knowledge.

* * *

Nathaniel knocked the melting, slushy snow from his boots, unlocked the door, gave it a gentle push, and entered his house. There was no one else there, for he had chosen not to hire any servants, and only commissioned a woman from the village to cook his dinner every day and leave it on the stove for him when he returned from a day of work about the estate. Occasionally the kindhearted Mrs. Higgins would do a bit of housework for him, but she never told him, and accepted payment only for her cooking services. The good woman was sure that the honest, kindly young steward must be saving his money for something very important, since his salary would certainly have covered a full-time housekeeper if he so chose, and she would not see him live in dust and disarray in the meantime.

Nathaniel went to the kitchen and lit the single tallow candle which stood on the table, for the winter nights came early, and it was already quite dark in the room. He removed his wet boots, his coat and his cravat, washed his hands and face, and then took the food from its place in the warming pan. He ran upstairs, and brought down a stack of books and papers, which he spread out on the kitchen table, for the fire in the kitchen stove filled the room with a comforting warmth, a warmth decidedly lacking in the other rooms of the house where the fireplaces remained unlit. He sat down and began to study, eating a bite now and then as he did so. Two hours passed, and his eyes began to ache from reading in the dim light.

Nathaniel was not quite so clear in his own mind as Mrs. Higgins was in hers, why he did not light five or six candles, for more candles he could easily afford in addition to a housekeeper. He would not allow himself to hope, and yet, there it was all the same. The hope that, if he worked long and hard enough, and saved every penny, no matter what it might cost him now in the way of material comforts, that someday he might be worthy of Georgiana Darcy. Nathaniel knew that it was foolish, he himself had told her that she would go on to marry someone of her own sphere, and she would too. But the world, when viewed through that lens, was dark and dreary, and there was little in it worth striving for. So he let himself work for a someday that might never be.

He went to bed, and lay in the dark for over an hour, staring out into the blackness beyond the little window. At last sleep came, but it was a disturbed sleep. He tossed and turned and at last sat bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. He left his room and made his way downstairs to the kitchen once more. He lit the candle again and worked until his eyes closed of their own accord and he dropped off to sleep with his head on the table among his papers. An hour later, the faint light of dawn coming in through the eastern window woke him.

This was Nathaniel's nightly routine. Thus it had been almost ever since his arrival.

Half an hour later, he was heading down the road towards the village. Matlock's main village was farther from the Great House, and thus from the lane where his own house stood, then Pemberley's village was from Pemberley house, and it took three-quarters of an hour of brisk walking to reach it. But Nathaniel did not mind. He faced the March wind, appreciating its damp feel on his face, a sure sign that spring was on its way.

When he reached the village, there were many people already moving about outside the little stone cottages, for dawn was a busy time for the farmers who lived there. As he walked among them, various people called greetings to him, for after only a little over three months he was already known, respected, and even loved in the village. He would respond to every greeting, often calling people by name, and sometimes he would stop and speak to one or another for several minutes.

Those who had troubles or disputes would call him over, and he gave his attention to each problem as it presented itself, dealing with those which could be dealt with at once, and noting those which he would have to attend to later.

This was his favorite time of the day, when the weariness and heartache of the night had flown for the present, and he could be happy, in the happiness of the village children, in the knowledge that he was providing a service to these good people, in pleasure and pride in his work.

After an hour in the village, he turned around and made the long tramp back to the great house, arriving just in time to present himself for his morning meeting with Lord Matlock.

* * *

Nathaniel's first interview with Lord Matlock, three months before, had gone as well as possible given the fact that there were far more emotions hidden below the calm demeanors of both gentlemen than was normal in such cases.

Richard was still recovering from the stress and subsequent relief of the last few days while Nathaniel was fighting to appear calm and collected, while being overwhelmed by various conflicting emotions.

"Well, Mr. Wakefield," Richard said, when they had gone over all the necessary points. "My cousin has a good deal of faith in you, and I am looking forward to the time, I hope not far off, when I shall have the same faith, as I am likewise looking forward to the work we shall do together."

Before Nathaniel could reply, Kitty entered the room and Richard stood and held out his hand to her.

She had come from the parlor, where Lady Ashton was sitting with Cathy playing at her feet, engaged in conversation with Lady Catherine. Most of the talk was on Lady Catherine's side it is true, but Lady Ashton seemed well content to listen, and add a word now and then, while she watched her granddaughter play with contented eyes.

The two women had been wary of each other at first, and it had taken all Kitty's and Richard's combined efforts that morning to pacify his aunt's anger at being left at Matlock the previous day, while they were at Ashton. But when Kitty impressed upon her the importance of making Lady Ashton feel welcome, she was modified, since this was a task she could partake in, and greeted Lady Ashton with as much civility as she was capable of. Gradually the two had warmed to each other, drawn together by their shared affection for the little girl with sunshine and firelight in her curls, in whom the one could see her daughter, and the other, her son.

"My love, this is our new steward, Mr. Wakefield. Mr. Wakefield, my wife Lady Matlock," Richard introduced.

Nathaniel bowed. Kitty looked at him kindly, but there was a something in her eyes, a something that made him feel as if she could see right through him, that made him drop his eyes to the floor, even as he bowed respectfully to her.

"We are very pleased you have come, Mr. Wakefield," Kitty said. Her smile was warm, despite her searching gaze. "Welcome to Matlock."

"Thank you, Madam."

"My wife is the sister of Mrs. Darcy, whom you know," Richard told him. "Our families are closely related on both sides."

"Indeed?" Nathaniel made it sound like a polite question, but he knew. For in truth, Lady Matlock could not know him as well as he knew her. Georgiana had spoken often of her, frequently referring to her as her dearest friend. Nathaniel thought that once, he might have held that position of honor, but no more. He had forsaken it, and never deserved it at all.

These thoughts ran through his mind during the moments while Lady Matlock spoke to her husband, and then excused herself. Pulling himself back from his painful reverie, Nathaniel bowed once more to her, and then focused again on the business at hand.

* * *

A/N #2: I'm sure I must be breaking one of the top ten rules of writing by ending this chapter with a flashback. Please forgive this great transgression, and let me know what you thought overall. :)


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks Irina for always helping me out with the titles stuff! :) I went back and fixed the problem. One of these days I'll get it right the first time. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 14: May – September 1818**

In the first week of May, Georgiana left London and returned to Derbyshire, where her sister awaited both her and the imminent birth of her child.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardener had come up from London to spend a few weeks at Pemberley, so that Mrs. Gardener could assist her niece during her delivery, and Georgiana's first few days at home were the first truly happy ones she had experienced since the previous autumn, with the little group who had first met at Pemberley, five years ago, reunited at last.

A worried line appeared between Elizabeth's eyes when she observed that Georgiana had not gained back any of her color during her months in Town, and was still looking rather thin and pale, but it smoothed out somewhat, when she saw how genuinely happy Georgiana was to be home. And soon, all thoughts of the kind were swept away in the pain and subsequent joy of childbirth.

* * *

Darcy lifted his first daughter from his wife's arms and stood gazing at her silently for a few moments, emotions playing on his face.

"She is perfect Lizzy," he said finally, his voice husky.

"I did want a girl so very much," Elizabeth said, her voice very tired, but very happy. "And now she is here."

Darcy smiled at her tenderly before his eyes were drawn back to the tiny being in his arms. Her tiny mouth, like a little pink rosebud, opened in a tiny yawn.

"Elinor?" he asked Elizabeth. "As we agreed?"

"Yes," she said, smiling at the sweet picture before her. "Elinor Darcy."

"Whenever I hold one of my children for the first time, it feels almost as if I have never truly loved before," Lizzy said earnestly, when several minutes had elapsed, and Darcy had carefully handed the baby back to her. "We have been very blessed," she added. "Sometimes it seems too wonderful to be true."

"But it _is _true, dearest," Darcy told her, smiling and bending to kiss her forehead.

"It just seems that we have not had our fair share of trouble, while others near and dear to us have had more than their share."

Darcy's brow creased thoughtfully. "If God has allotted that we should be happy, why should we complain?"

Lizzy shook off her momentary gloom with a smile. "I would be an ill creature indeed who would complain at such a happy moment," she said, settling back into her pillows as she spoke.

She looked down at her healthy baby, nestled peacefully against her breast. "My little Elinor," she whispered.

* * *

Georgiana had not been in the room for Elinor's birth. She had left Elizabeth in the capable hands of Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Gardener, while she herself went to the nursery to assist Nurse Rosa with the little boys, for William, at three and a half, was old enough to know that something important was happening, and Louis, while not understanding, sensed the unusual energy in the house, and soon began to cry loudly for his mother. In the end it took all of Georgiana and Rosa's combined efforts to curb the curiosity of the former and comfort the latter.

When Georgiana was at last summoned to Elizabeth's bedchamber by a smiling Mrs. Gardener, when she first held little Elinor in her arms, she began to weep, her tears rolling down her cheeks and falling on the baby's blanket.

Darcy started forwards, worry clouding his face, but Elizabeth held him back with a light touch on his arm.

"My darling, why do you cry?" she asked gently.

"It is nothing. Only, she is so beautiful Lizzy," Georgiana said, crying even as she spoke, but laughing a little too, through the tears.

It was the truth. But not the whole truth. The truth was that before such a beautiful, innocent little soul, the walls holding in Georgiana's broken heart had crumbled, and she had wept with joy, at the love in her heart for this little niece, and she had wept with grief, for the life and the children that she was sure would now never be hers.

From that hour on Georgiana loved Elinor with an overwhelming love and in the days that followed she took comfort in pouring out that love on the baby, even when her heart was heaviest. She would wander about the house and, on warm days, about the flower gardens, holding Elinor against her chest, sometimes singing softly to her. When the baby would begin to cry Georgiana would return her to Elizabeth or to her nurse, but Elinor was generally a happy baby and was often quite content to rest quietly in her young aunt's arms, gazing at the new world all about her with her dark eyes opened wide, or lulled to sleep by the gentle rhythm of Georgiana's steps and the sweet low tones of her voice.

* * *

One day, perhaps two weeks after Elinor's birth, Georgiana returned to Elizabeth's room from one such stroll in the garden with Elinor, and found her sister sitting on the sofa, engaged in conversation with Mrs. Gardener.

"Georgiana, my aunt has a plan in mind that I should very much like you to hear," Elizabeth said, taking her baby into her arms as she spoke, and then patting the sofa beside her.

Georgiana sat down dutifully and looked at Mrs. Gardener with interest.

"Well, my dear," Mrs. Gardener began. "As you know, Mr. Gardener and I took a tour of the Peaks in the summer of 1813. And it was during this trip that you first met Elizabeth."

"And I am so very, very glad that you did, and that I did," Georgiana exclaimed suddenly, reaching out and clasping Elizabeth's free hand.

"As am I," laughed Mrs. Gardener. "But what you may not know is that we originally intended to travel all the way up to the Lake District, but Mr. Gardener's business prevented it, very opportunely as the case turned out. But now we are finally prepared to finish the trip begun nearly five years ago. We will be touring the lakes in July and, my dear Georgiana, we wish to ask you if you would like to accompany us."

Georgiana looked swiftly at Elizabeth who said quickly, "I have given my full and hearty consent Georgiana, and Fitzwilliam has as well. We think it would be a wonderful thing. But of course, only if you wish it."

Georgiana paused for a moment, irresolute. "I do not want to leave you to do everything alone," she said to Elizabeth.

"Nonsense, I shall be quite strong in a few more days and I have Mrs. Reynolds and a reliable staff of servants to help me. I beg that you will not hesitate on my account Georgiana."

Georgiana wavered for another moment. She had been gone for so much of the year already. She was finally settled at home again, finally recovering some of the happiness that had been lost that day by the river, and now she was to be whisked off again? At the same time, Georgiana knew that the offer was meant in every way to be a truly thoughtful one, and she was grateful to Mrs. Gardener for her kind intentions.

"I would love to go," she said with a smile. "You are very kind to invite me."

"Then it is settled just as I hoped," said Mrs. Gardener in a pleased tone.

* * *

It is not the object of this work to give a detailed description of the Lake District, nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither lay; Manchester, the beautiful Yorkshire Dales, etc. are sufficiently known. It is enough to say that for Georgiana, the summer months of the year 1818 passed by in a succession of picturesque lakes, with the dazzling blue of the sky reflected in them, stretching away into the distance to meet rivers which wound away among green hills to the horizon. She could not be perfectly happy of course. Beautiful lakes and mountains do not and never can compensate for lost love. But she took pleasure in their tranquil beauty, and in being an attentive companion to Mr. and Mrs. Gardener, who thoroughly enjoyed both the trip and her society.

The travelers returned to Pemberley in early August, where the Gardener children had spent the summer, and soon after, the whole Gardener family left for their home in London.

September came, always a busy month on country estates. The harvest festival was coming, and then it was upon them, and then it was gone.

On the last day of the month, Elizabeth came into the sitting room where Georgiana was sitting at her pianoforte, and asked her, "Georgiana, how shall you like to go to Matlock and visit for a week?"

Georgiana started slightly. She had prepared herself for this moment, indeed, had been thinking of it daily since her return home, but it had come so suddenly that she was caught off guard. Elizabeth was holding Elinor and she reached for the baby, and took her into her arms, both as a way of playing for time, and because holding the baby close helped sooth the sudden pounding of her heart.

Elizabeth was continuing. "Richard has sent Fitzwilliam a letter, informing him that he will be riding down to Pemberley tomorrow to discuss some business affairs with him, and Kitty added a postscript, begging you to return with Richard and spend a week with them. Would you like to go Georgiana?"

Georgiana was ready with her answer now, and said quickly, "Yes Lizzy. I would like to see Kitty again very much."

"Very well," Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction. "I'll arrange for Sally to pack your trunk tonight, so that you shall not need to worry about it tomorrow."

Georgiana surrendered Elinor to her mother again, and Elizabeth left the room.

Georgiana sat still for a moment, and then lifted her hands to the keys once more and began to play slowly and softly, _The Last Rose of Summer_.

_"It is highly possible that I will not even see him," _she thought to herself wistfully. Then, almost angrily, _"I don't want to see him."_

Her fingers stumbled on the keys and she focused on the music for a moment.

_"I do not want to see him," _she told herself again. _"It will only hurt me. But I miss Kitty, and I cannot avoid Matlock forever."_

Her fingers ran up the keys to the final note, which died away softly on the cool breeze which blew through the open window—the window which looked out towards the golden autumn woods, beyond which ran a river with two large stones on its bank.

* * *

A/N #2: Hope you all enjoyed meeting little Elinor. :)

I'm happy to announce that updates should come in (at least slightly) quicker succession from now on. I am going to aim for a chapter every other week starting today. Thanks for not giving up on me during those three or four months when I barely posted at all.

I love hearing your guesses as to what is going to happen next! See you soon!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: October 1818**

When Georgiana reached Matlock, she threw herself into Kitty's arms and they both cried a little. Both had endured so much in the course of the last twelvemonth, one openly, the other secretly. Both were forever changed, and they sensed this in each other and took comfort in the other's nearness.

"It is so wonderful to see you dearest," Kitty said at last, holding Georgiana at arm's length to look into her eyes.

Georgiana could only nod.

* * *

Later that evening, Georgiana found herself sitting beside her friend on the low sofa in Kitty's private sitting room. Richard was in the nursery with the children, and she and Kitty were quite alone.

They had talked animatedly for an hour, of Georgiana's trip and of the family at Pemberley, and of the fight for Cathy's guardianship, and of the everything and nothing that dear friends find to speak of, but for the past several minutes they had been silent, gazing into the fire, Georgiana's head resting on Kitty's shoulder, content just to be together again.

It was so similar to that night when they had sat together in Rosings' parlor, after watching the sunset, and yet so different. Both were reminded of it, and a shaky sigh escaped Georgiana's lips, as she thought of all that had passed since that day, of all that she and Kitty had spoken of, and of all that still lay concealed in her heart.

Kitty heard the sigh, and her face grew troubled, for she had noticed, even in the few hours Georgiana had been there, that her friend sometimes became lost in her own anxious thoughts and that her face grew sad when she thought no one was looking.

"Promise me, Georgie," she said softly, wishing to recall her friend from the sad reverie she seemed suddenly to have sunk into, "that you will come visit me often after this. I am determined that a whole twelvemonth shall never elapse between our seeing each-other again, for I have missed you sorely."

"As I have you," Georgiana replied, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. "I would not have such a year go by again for anything."

Kitty was silent for a moment, then she said, still more gently, "Am I wrong Georgie, in thinking that you have been unhappy of late?"

Georgiana was quiet for a long moment. Part of her screamed to confide in Kitty, but the greater part of her was so used to concealment, and so afraid that to share the story with a single soul would somehow be a betrayal of Nathaniel's trust, that its very silence drowned out the other voice.

At last she said quietly, "You are not wrong, Kitty. But it is useless to speak of. My situation has not greatly changed from what it was a year ago. I do not think that I shall ever marry. If I am unwilling to settle for what is offered to me… if I want that which is unobtainable… then it is my own fault, and I must suffer the consequences."

"You know that I would gladly help you to bear your burden if I could," Kitty said quietly.

"You are helping me bear it Kitty. You cannot know how much of a comfort it is to me just to see you again."

Kitty recognized that Georgiana spoke the truth, and so she simply squeezed her hand in turn, and then, changing the subject with great dexterity, soon had Georgiana laughing over an anecdote about James and a gooseberry pie.

They parted for the night with mutual smiles and full hearts, but, when the maid had finished her work and Georgiana was left alone in her room, she stood at her window for a long time, staring out blindly into the dark, wondering in which direction the steward's house lay.

* * *

The following morning Georgiana was introduced to Lady Ashton.

"Miss Darcy," Lady Ashton began, almost timidly. "I have long desired to make the acquaintance of the rest of the Darcy family, and this meeting brings me great pleasure."

Georgiana's heart went out to the woman in a moment, for she suspected that Lady Ashton still found it hard to believe that none of the Darcys would resent her for her past actions, and so she said warmly, "No more pleasure than it brings me, Lady Ashton. All those dear to Kitty are dear to me as well."

Lady Ashton smiled, but any reply was cut off by the entrance of Cathy, who ran forward to meet her grandmother with evident delight.

As the hour of Lady Ashton's visit passed by, Georgiana began to see more and more clearly, the changes in Kitty that she had sensed when she first saw her. The way Kitty spoke to Lady Ashton with such sincere warmth and at the same time with such unstudied grace, the loving way in which she responded to her daughter in all her childish joy, turning her full attention on the little girl whenever it was needed, without ever seeming to remove it from her guests, all these things, which most people feel but do not see, were revealed to Georgiana's wondering eyes as she watched her friend.

Her love for Kitty grew, as love will when confronted with such a beautiful heart, and she was very glad she had come. Indeed, as the week of her visit passed away, Georgiana began to feel a sense of honest pride. She had done what she feared would be impossible. She had come to Matlock, and visited her dear friend, and would soon be returning home with no old wounds reopened.

On this last point, she spoke too soon.

* * *

It was the sixth morning of Georgiana's visit. In the breakfast room, she found Kitty overseeing the laying out of the last dishes.

"Good morning," Kitty greeted her with a warm smile, as soon as she appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning Kitty," Georgiana returned the salutation, as she moved to sit down opposite her friend.

The footman and the two maids who had brought up the breakfast filed out.

"Richard is late this morning," Kitty said. "I fear we shall have to start without him if he does not appear soon. If there is one thing that is upsetting to our cook, it is when we let the food grow cold on the table."

"What is detaining him?" Georgiana asked. "Has he gone out so early?"

"No," Kitty began. "He is downstairs in his study. His meeting with Mr. Wakefield must be taking longer than usual, that is all."

Georgiana froze. She had known that Richard saw Nathaniel nearly every day, but how and when she had not dared to ask. Now, he was in this very house. Oh that she could see him, just for a moment. Oh that she might never see or hear of him again.

She was shaken from her momentary trance by Richard's entrance. "I am sorry if I kept you waiting," he said, lifting Kitty's hand and kissing it lightly, and greeting Georgiana with a friendly nod and smile.

He sat down and the three began to serve themselves from the dishes laid out on the spotless white tablecloth.

Georgiana began to eat almost mechanically, the food dry in her mouth.

"I dislike to be the bearer of such sad news," Richard began, turning to face Georgiana. "But a note arrived from Darcy not twenty minutes ago Georgie. He will be arriving by four o'clock this afternoon at the latest to escort you home. You will have to start at once when he arrives, in order to be back at Pemberley before nightfall."

"So soon?" protested Kitty, reaching across the table for her friend's hand.

"Shall we hide you in a closet Georgie, and keep you for another fortnight at least?" Richard asked her teasingly.

Georgiana managed to smile. "Then Fitzwilliam will have come all this way for nothing," she said.

"And woe betide those who waste Darcy's time. You do have a point cousin," Richard continued in the same lighthearted manner.

Georgiana smiled again, and this time it was genuine. Drawing her thoughts away from wherever Nathaniel was at that moment, she looked earnestly at the people beside her. "I want to thank you both for the lovely visit," she said. "You have made my stay a very happy one."

"We want you to come back often, Georgie," Kitty reminded her.

"Indeed," seconded Richard. He cleared his throat a little and then added seriously, "If you ever tire of Pemberley, Georgiana, remember that you will always have a second home here at Matlock. Kitty and I are very proud of the young woman you've become and—" he broke off, not knowing quite what else to say, but Georgiana saw his earnest look, which spoke of just how much he wished for her to be happy and she was both surprised and moved.

"Richard, I don't know what to say," she began.

"Don't say anything, I beg you," he said, holding his hands in the air and then rising quickly and quitting the room, as if suddenly ashamed of showing so much emotion.

* * *

The rest of the morning was soon gone. Fitzwilliam was to arrive within the next few hours. Georgiana left Kitty rocking James to sleep in the nursery and made her way downstairs.

She stood considering for a moment in the hall, biting her lip nervously. The outdoors was calling to her. She longed to feel the cool autumn air on her face and stretch her legs before sitting in a carriage all evening. Hearing that Nathaniel had been so close by, that she might have called out and he might have heard her, had shaken her, but she told herself to be reasonable, and that so long as she kept to the garden paths there was very little chance of their running into each-other. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the door.

There was an ivy-covered stone wall enclosing the formal gardens, and it was along the path which ran parallel to this wall that Georgiana directed her steps. Eventually, she approached the wrought iron gate which led out to the fir grove. It was open, and she turned the sharp corner without stopping, only to slide to a halt with a little gasp, mere inches from another person. She lifted her eyes slowly to meet the blueness of the sky at sunset.

Nathaniel stared down at her, wonder written on his face.

Georgiana took a quick step backwards.

"Don't go Georgiana," he cried hastily.

They stood there silently for a moment, Georgiana looking at the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

"Georgiana…" Her name was like a prayer on his lips. "I heard you were here only this morning. But to speak to you or even see you… it seemed hopeless."

She tried to reply, but sudden anger, mixed with a strong urge to weep, overpowered her voice and she could say nothing at first.

She had offered her heart to him freely, and he had refused it, and it had shattered on the rocks beside the river. She could not endure such pain again.

Finally, in a low, shaking voice, she said, "As I am quite sure that there can be nothing further to say here, I bid you good day, Mr. Wakefield."

She turned and began hurrying back through the gate.

"Georgiana!" His voice arrested her again.

"Stop calling me that!" she cried, stumbling to a halt and burying her face in her hands.

There was another moment of silence as each stood, wrestling with their own emotions, until Nathaniel managed to speak in a low, almost steady voice. "If you are determined to leave, then do so. You know I would never keep you here against your will. But I am asking you, please, for just a few moments of your time."

She looked up at the house where it rose beyond the gardens. Then she turned and passed through the gate again and turning aside, walked a few steps farther into the fir grove. Nathaniel understood her wish to escape the sight of the house, and he too moved away from the gate. When they had walked several paces in silence Georgiana turned suddenly, and raising her chin almost defiantly said, "Now then, say what you will. But you would spare me by making it brief, sir. In prolonging this meeting you can do nothing but prolong my pain." Her words were cold, but her voice quivered.

Nathaniel stood perfectly still for a moment and then began to speak quickly. "I have behaved wretchedly to you, and well I know it. But my crime was not in leaving you, rather it was in spending time with you for so many weeks when I knew it was wrong. I have no excuse to offer, except that I thought I would be wounding only my own heart."

There was a sound from Georgiana, as of a sharp intake of breath, but she said nothing.

Nathaniel went on, almost desperately. "I was weak. Over and over I thought to myself, 'Another meeting cannot hurt. One more visit only and this time I shall tell her that, while I have enjoyed every moment of her company, it is time for us both to move on.' But when I looked into your eyes… I could never do it. You were a light during the darkest time of my life. And I told myself that you too, needed a friend. Towards the end of the year I began trying to convince myself that you would go to London in the winter, as I know your family often does, and there you would forget me. I told myself that, while my heart would break, you would be happy, and where you belonged, and that that would be the end of the matter."

"How could you think I belong there!" Georgiana cried, unable to remain longer silent. "Have I not told you again and again that I care nothing for that place, or those people?"

He did not answer her outraged questions but instead hurried on with his confession. "When you told me of your feelings, Georgiana, all my guilt came crashing down about my head and I could do nothing but let you go. That moment was worse than when my mother died. My guilt was overwhelming, but it was nothing to the pain I felt as you walked away."

"Why tell me this now?" Georgiana asked, taking three rapid steps towards him, hands clenched at her sides. "Why now, after I have suffered so many months of agony on your account?" Her voice broke on the last few words, but she kept her eyes fixed on his face.

"When could I have said it before Georgiana? I could not write to you, and it has been eleven months since I saw you last. But no, I cannot go on until I hear if time has changed your wishes. I must ask you if you can find it in your heart to care for me still, or if I have lost you forever."

"I told you what I felt and that I could never feel otherwise, and you said you did not love me and never would." She was shaking violently now. "Is it only guilt for the past that makes you speak this way now?"

"For the love of heaven Georgiana, have you heard nothing I have been saying?" He took a quick stride towards her, so that they were now only an arm's length apart. "I have been telling you that I love you. And _have _loved you, all along. But I would not put you through a life of drudgery and ridicule and so, at the end, I lied to you, believing that it would be easier for you to harden your heart against me if you thought of my heart as cold. But hear this, Georgiana, and never doubt it again. From almost the very first day that I knew you, I have loved you. You made… you make… me feel alive."

He stood before her, his soul with all its scars bared to her, for she could see it clearly for the first time, even through the tears which clouded her view of his face.

She took a final step towards him, closing the small space that remained between them. "Well then…" Her voice was almost a whisper. "If you love me and I love you… how can anything stand against us?" As she spoke, she lifted a hand and laid it on his chest.

His hand closed over hers, capturing it against his heart. "Georgiana, listen. I would never have said the first but for the second part of what I must say. I cannot yet offer you marriage, but, since last we spoke, paths have been opened to me that I never imagined would or could. In four years, Georgiana, if my work continues to go as well as it has this year, I shall be able to purchase a piece of land and a house of my own. I know that, no matter how hard I work, I will likely never be accepted by the upper circles of society. But I will be able to offer you a respectable and comfortable home, and we would be together. I will work for it tirelessly, Georgiana, if only you will wait for me for those four years. It is a great deal to ask I know—"

"No, Nathaniel. It is so little you ask of me I am almost ashamed," Georgiana broke in earnestly. "I'd wait forever for you. You know that." She paused, then, "But is there no way to shorten the time? What of my money? Could we not make use of that?"

"I have thought on this subject, and I think that we must not count on it. Your brother is a just and generous man, but we cannot expect him to understand at once. It seems to me that to eventually gain his respect and consent I will need to be able to prove to him that I can support you independently, without need of your fortune."

Georgiana nodded slowly, seeing the truth in his words. "In that case," she said, lifting her head so that her dark eyes met his blue ones in an earnest gaze. "I will wait the four years, and I will work too, to try and be worthy of you. I fear that thus far I have been caught up in my own grief, while you…" Her voice died away and she reached up and caressed his cheek lightly with her fingertips.

He bent towards her ever so slightly. The depths of his blue eyes were like deep pools at the foot of a mountain and she was being born along and down by a waterfall.

In the fleeting moment before his lips touched hers, he turned his face away suddenly, and drew her into his arms instead, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Not yet," he said, his cheek pressed against her head, the words slightly muffled. "We cannot know what the next four years will bring. I would not have you regret anything."

Georgiana let out the breath she had been holding and wrapped her arms around him. She clung to him, clutching the fabric of his coat with both hands, dreading the separation that must soon come.

"Please, don't ever let me go," she whispered.

"What is the meaning of this?" came a stern voice from behind them.

Nathaniel started back in shock, and Georgiana whirled around to face the newcomer and found herself staring into the shocked and horrified eyes of her brother.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Darcy stepped forward quickly, fighting past the initial shock which had temporarily frozen his limbs, his first thought to protect his sister.

Georgiana advanced to meet him and laid a hand on his arm to halt him. "Fitzwilliam, I can explain."

He looked at her earnestly—anger, doubt, fear, and brotherly affection all struggling on his face.

She hesitated, her thoughts whirling. But she knew there was only one choice in the end. And she knew too, that Fitzwilliam deserved to know the truth at last.

She turned and held out her hand, gesturing towards Nathaniel. "You know Mr. Wakefield. What you do not know yet is that I love him dearly and wish… and wish to marry him."

Darcy looked at Nathaniel and then back at her and she thought that if he had not seen her a moment before in Nathaniel's arms he might have laughed.

"Georgiana, this must be a— There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake," Georgiana said. "I love him as I have said. And he loves me and has loved me for some time."

Darcy turned to look at Nathaniel once again. "This is true?" he asked him.

"Yes." The monosyllable was spoken quietly, but with an unmistakable force behind it, and Darcy flinched a little, almost as if he had been struck.

"Are you mad?" he cried suddenly. "You really thought _you_ had a chance with Miss Darcy? You thought you had a chance at claiming her fortune no doubt."

Nathaniel's hands clenched until the knuckles showed white, but his voice was steady as he replied. "Sir, you are very much mistaken. I never thought I had a chance at either, before this moment when she declared that she would wait for me as I work to prepare a home for her. I know that Georgiana is of age, and thus her fortune will be available to her at once upon her marriage. But I also know that Georgiana loves you, and any sort of break with you would cause her great pain. For this reason I am prepared to work and wait for years if need be, to prove that your doubts are unfounded."

"I have no intention of allowing you to prove anything," Darcy said angrily. But Georgiana saw the tightness in his jaw, which bespoke his inner turmoil. Almost as if he felt his sister's gaze on him, Darcy turned to her suddenly and addressed her sternly. "Georgiana, come. We are leaving at once."

For an eternity of a moment she stood still, torn between these two great loves of hers.

Then she turned and clasped Nathaniel's hand in hers. "It is you who must wait for me now," she whispered. "I will come back Nathaniel. I love you."

"Georgiana." Darcy's voice cut through the air sharply.

She looked into Nathaniel's blue eyes one last time, and then she turned and followed her brother from the garden.

_How many times did they have to part?_

* * *

As they neared the house, Fitzwilliam asked grimly, "Do Richard or Kitty know aught of this?"

In a low voice Georgiana replied that they did not.

"Then I refuse to speak of it before them yet," he whispered sternly. "Bid them goodbye and come to the carriage."

Georgiana walked up the steps to where Kitty was waiting. The world was blurry before her eyes, but her brother's command and her own pride helped her to smile and hug and kiss her friend goodbye. If her eyes were red it could be accounted to her sorrow at leaving. Turning away from bidding Richard farewell, Georgiana saw that Elizabeth must have come with Fitzwilliam, for she was standing beside the carriage. She occasionally accompanied him on short trips thus, for it gave them an opportunity to spend a few hours alone with each-other, away from the constant activity of Pemberley.

As Georgiana embraced Lizzy, and then moved past her to step into the carriage, she saw Elizabeth catch Darcy's eye, and saw Lizzy's own eyes widen with sudden worry.

When they had left Matlock's drive Elizabeth cried, "What is the matter? One of you tell me?"

Georgiana did not answer at once and Darcy said haltingly, "Georgiana has… been deceiving us… regarding the matter of where she bestows her affections."

Elizabeth and Darcy both looked at Georgiana expectantly—Darcy with fearful, disappointed eyes and Elizabeth with fearful, tender ones.

"Please do not look at me in that manner!" Georgiana cried suddenly. "I have done nothing of which you need be ashamed."

"Georgiana, you were…" Darcy could not finish his sentence.

"I was saying goodbye, for I did not know how long, to the man I wish to marry. What is so wrong in that?" She spoke angrily, even as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Darcy, who could never stand to see her cry, sat back with a jerk and put a hand up to his face, hiding his mouth.

Elizabeth leaned forwards and took Georgiana's hand tenderly in her own. "Will you tell us all about it?" she asked gently.

"Yes. I have long wanted to tell you both of it. Oh, how desperately I have wanted to! I only kept it from you because I knew you would try to stop me."

Darcy moved as if to speak, but thought better of it, and Georgiana, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands, began her tale.

It was a long one, often broken off while tears choked her and prevented her entirely from speaking. But she told it truthfully, without exaggeration and without making light of it.

"I love him," she finished simply, smiling for the first time through her tears. "He is everything good and noble and only lacks the fortune and name which are considered more indispensable than real nobility of heart and mind. Look back on all your dealings with him and tell me one ill thing that you know of him. Your own senses must tell you what I know in my heart."

"Georgiana," began Fitzwilliam in a shaken voice. "He has done very wrong in asking for your hand when he knows how far above him you are. Can a man who would take a wife at the cost of her being cast out of and scorned by society be truly selfless?"

"I told you he did not accept my love at first. He struggled with himself. It took him months and months to finally come to the same conclusion as I did, that society's scorn would be nothing if we could only be together. He is the first man I have ever met whom I know loves me for myself and not for my fortune."

"How do you know that?" Darcy's voice rose angrily. "Because he has told you so? Don't you know that fortune hunters use lies like that all the time? Did you learn nothing from your experience with George Wickham?"

Lizzy looked at him in horror and Georgiana's eyes flashed with sudden fury.

"How dare you compare my Nathaniel and that man, after everything I have told you, and everything you yourself know of him. You can offer no further insult to him or me."

She turned her face away and looked stonily out of the window.

Not a word was spoken for the rest of the drive home.

* * *

Elizabeth and Darcy were in her private sitting room. Georgiana had retired to her room as soon as they had arrived at Pemberley and now they sat staring at each other in a worried silence.

"Fitzwilliam, do you not think you were rather harsh with her?" Elizabeth began hesitantly.

"What else could I say or do? I cannot and will not condone such behavior. That she should see him for all those months behind my back…"

"She was lonely," Elizabeth said quickly. "I have been preoccupied with Elinor and the boys. And we both were concerned about Richard and Kitty's troubles during the months she was seeing him. What astonishes me is that she should have been able to hide her heartbreak for eleven months while he was at Matlock. I suspected something was wrong, but I thought it was simply a phase, such as many young ladies go through. I was wrong, and she is much stronger than I ever gave her credit for."

"Well, from this day forward she shall use that strength to forget him."

"That is impossible if she truly loves him as she says, and well you know it."

"Elizabeth!" Darcy's exclamation was shocked.

"She is very determined. And I am not ashamed of her. I am only ashamed of myself for not discovering the cause of her pain sooner."

"What are you saying?" sharply.

"Fitzwilliam, she was right when she said we knew no ill of him."

"We do now."

"He is a good man Fitzwilliam."

"He has less than £300 to his name," Darcy retorted.

"I had next to nothing when you married me."

"Don't be ridiculous. You were a gentleman's daughter."

"I thought you were better than this. I thought you prided yourself on rising above societies follies concerning rank and wealth."

"If you think for one moment that I am going to let my sister marry my cousin's steward, previously my tenant, then you are sadly mistaken."

"A steward's place is not a despised one."

"Indeed, it is not. I raised him to that position, and he repays my generosity like this?"

"What you have done for him in recommending him he has paid back and will continue to pay back by his useful service to Richard."

"And now shall I be forced to recommend his dismissal and have Richard start over again with a new steward so soon? Surely Georgiana cannot visit there while he remains."

"His crimes hardly merit the loss of his position."

"What do they merit then?"

"That depends on your perspective. I for one do not see them as crimes at all."

"I do not think I comprehend you."

"Fitzwilliam, please consider. If he works hard, as we have every reason to believe he does and will, she will not live in poverty. And if her fortune is added to his hard work they might live comfortably, at least as well as I and my family lived at Longbourn. Make them wait a little longer if you must, but do not separate them forever. Help them, instead of hindering them."

He looked at her with horrified eyes.

"She loves him, Fitzwilliam. Does that word no longer mean anything to you?"

"Elizabeth, I command you to stop this kind of talk." He snapped out the words, his voice hard and bitter.

She paused, frustrated tears glittering in her eyes. "I shall stop, since I see that to reason with you at this time is useless. But know this: I do not condone your actions in this matter. They are based on arrogance and pride and I am very sorry that I should be forced to see you behave so ill."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

He turned to face her, dismay evident on his face, but she had gone.

* * *

The sun had set, and Darcy's anger had cooled somewhat. He went in search of Elizabeth and found her in her chamber. She was sitting before her mirror, brushing out her dark curls.

He watched her silently. The room was dark, and the only light came from the full moon outside the window. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders in waves of soft darkness, the moonlight lending a silver sheen here and there, as it does to the smooth surface of a still river.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth. Please say you will forgive me." His voice was low and quiet.

She spoke coolly, without looking at him. "I cannot think of anything you have said or done which merits forgiveness."

"Lizzy," there was anger, pleading, and love in his voice. "I cannot give in in this matter. Please understand that and let us agree to disagree."

"When a husband and wife disagree, the husband has his way and the wife must stand by and see her will thwarted. In such cases it is small comfort to her that she has received permission to disapprove."

As she spoke she rose from her seat before the mirror and made to walk past Darcy to the other end of the chamber, but Darcy caught her arm and held her back. "Elizabeth, please. I have never seen you like this."

She seemed to waver then. "I… I want to forgive you. But how does an apology change anything?"

"I cannot offer more at the moment. Will you come and speak rationally of the matter with me?"

"You imply that I am being irrational?"

"No, only blinded by your romantic sensibilities Lizzy."

"My romantic sensibilities? You sir, are blinded by your feelingless heart towards your sister!"

He let go her arm suddenly and fell back a pace. When he spoke, his voice was very cold. "I see there is no possible way for us to understand each other in this matter. I bid you goodnight, Madam." He left her room and did not return that night.

* * *

Darcy was in his study, scratching away bitterly at a business letter which could not be ignored, when he heard a timid knock at his door.

"Enter," he called tersely.

The door opened a little and Georgiana stepped into the room.

She was white as a ghost, but her eyes were dry, and her whole being was very still.

He looked at her expectantly.

"Fitzwilliam…" She paused. "There is a favor I must beg of you."

"What is it," asked Darcy, his heart aching but his voice stern.

"Please do not have Nath— Mr. Wakefield… removed from his position at Matlock."

Darcy looked at her for a long moment. "I will not," he said finally, "if you promise me something in return, Georgiana."

Her eyes, which had been fixed on his face, dropped to the floor.

"You will write to him," her brother went on, "and break off whatever understanding you have with him."

"No, Fitzwilliam, I— I cannot. You cannot ask that of me," she stammered, beginning to tremble.

"Then I will not promise—" Darcy began in a raised voice, before breaking off suddenly. He ran a hand over his face, and then, after a moment of silence asked more quietly, "Will you sit, Georgiana?"

When she had done so, he started again, "Georgiana, you are twenty-one years old, and I cannot legally force you to do anything you do not wish any more than I can withhold your fortune from you. But at the same time, caring about you as much as I do, I am determined to protect you and see that you have what is best for you. You are a well-educated, intelligent girl, Georgiana, and I am sure you have considered all this carefully in the past twelve hours, and thus you must see that for me to promise not to use my influence with Richard to have Nathaniel removed as steward is impossible unless you likewise promise never to speak to him again."

Georgiana closed her eyes, and a tear slipped out from under her lashes. She had indeed considered all this, lying awake in the darkness, her stomach tied in knots and her head throbbing from so much weeping.

Darcy said wearily, "I am not trying to be cruel Georgiana—"

"I know," she broke in. She raised her head and looked at him, tears swimming in her eyes. "I know you want what is best for me. I just wish so very much that I could make you see that a life with Nathaniel is what is best for me." Her voice cracked a little and she paused, trying to gain control of herself again.

"But," she continued, her voice higher than usual as she tried to keep the tears from overpowering it. "I also wish for you to understand that I came here to beg you not to have Nathaniel fired only because I could not endure the thought of him losing everything for my sake, and not with any thought in mind that to draw such a promise out of you would remove our only insurmountable obstacle. Him losing his position at this time would be an obstacle indeed, for by your own admittance you know that Nathaniel is far too honorable to marry me without having some form of steady income with which to support me, even with the inducement of my £30,000, but it is not our only one.

"The other is that I love you too dearly, brother, to marry even Nathaniel at the cost of estrangement from you and Elizabeth. I could almost wish you _were _cruel and unfeeling. It would make everything so much simpler. But no, you are my beloved brother and friend and while I might have, in moments of despair, entertained the thought of elopement, of marrying without your consent, I could never have gone through with it. No more could Nathaniel, knowing that I would be miserable without you. For this reason, he was prepared to work for four years to earn your respect and consent, if not your approval and blessing. Cannot you see Fitzwilliam, that he had every ignoble inducement for an elopement at once, and every noble one for waiting those four years, and he chose the latter?"

"You cannot be sure he actually intended to wait for four years, and that it was not just a ploy to lull you into a false sense of security," Darcy said, but he spoke uncertainly, and would not look at his sister's face.

"You cannot truly believe that," Georgiana said firmly, though the tears were now fully evident in her voice.

Darcy was quiet for some time. When he finally spoke he said, "No. I do not believe that. I believe that Mr. Wakefield is overall an honorable young man. But he is not a fit husband for you. In tying yourself to him you would be quitting the sphere you have been brought up in. You would no longer be accepted in the social circles of London you have hitherto moved in—the circles that Elizabeth and I move in. And even were Mr. Wakefield able to do as he says and purchase property of his own… even were you to add your inheritance to his, Georgiana, you would _never_ be able to maintain anything close to the same lifestyle which you are accustomed to. And above all that there is the glaring difference between your education, everything you know… your world… and his education, all that he knows, his world. Thus, while my goal is to keep you happy and safe, I cannot give you my blessing."

"But I am not happy," Georgiana whispered. She wanted to explain that she would gladly give up the society which he himself had always considered it a chore to put up with, if only _he_ would not cast her off. She wanted to explain that she knew Nathaniel, his mind, his heart, and likewise knew that by some strange twist of fate they were not so different as everything conspired to make them, that there was no one in the world who understood her so well, but her throat was too choked up for words at first, and in the interlude a footman entered.

"Begging your pardon sir, but Mr. Rutledge is asking for you," he informed Darcy.

"Tell him I shall be with him in a moment," Darcy replied.

When the footman had left the room, he turned to Georgiana again and said seriously, "You may rest assured Georgiana that I will make no attempt to have Mr. Wakefield removed from his current position as things stand at the present. But if you will not write to him and break off all acquaintance with him then I will be forced to do it in your stead. It is hardly fair to allow him to continue in the state of uncertainty he must now be in. It is better that he should begin to forget you know, as you must begin to forget him."

Georgiana nodded slowly. For the present, she was afraid to say anything more.

Darcy rose and offered her his hand to assist her in doing likewise, but she could not bring herself to take it, and after a moment he withdrew it, and instead opened the door for her and stood, holding it, until she rose shakily and passed through it into the hall. Elizabeth was just descending the stairs, and she paused on the bottom step and looked at them both anxiously.

Georgiana walked up to Elizabeth and kissed her cheek. Elizabeth saw the tears in Georgiana's eyes, and her face hardened. Continuing past Elizabeth, Georgiana began to climb the stairs, but her heart was so heavy, and so much of her energy had been drained away by her sleepless night and the difficult conversation she had just taken part in, that she was forced to stop on the second landing and clutch the bannister for a moment, swaying slightly. Looking down, she saw Elizabeth still standing at the foot of the staircase, and Fitzwilliam still standing in the doorway of his study, both seemingly frozen.

At last Elizabeth moved. She crossed the hall towards door leading to the servant's staircase.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob, and looked back at her husband, her eyebrows raised in cold defiance, her eyes hurt and angry.

Darcy turned away from her, his own countenance a mask of cold unconcern.

A moment later Elizabeth had opened the door with a sharp twist of its knob, and snapped it shut behind her again with a jarring crack that echoed in the wide hall.

Darcy hit the open palm of his left hand with his right fist in a frustrated gesture, wheeled about, and in another moment had disappeared in the direction of the front entrance, where Mr. Rutledge was presumably waiting for him.

Georgiana, watching from above, stood as still as if she had been turned to stone. But she did not feel like stone. She felt as if someone had stabbed her. With a sobbing gasp, she fled up the stairs.

* * *

Georgiana sat alone at her writing desk; her hands pressed against her tired head. It had been a whole week, seven endless days, and Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam still maintained a cold silence in each-other's presences. It seemed each felt there was nothing more to say, and it had become simply a battle of wills. Fitzwilliam hardly spoke to her either and there was a painful, chilling silence throughout the always cheerful house.

Every word Georgiana had said about loving her brother too much to marry against his will had been true, but that same devoted, trusting love also gave her hope that when time had revealed to Fitzwilliam the steadfastness of her love for Nathaniel, and the steadiness of Nathaniel's own character, he might still be won over in the end. She had already endured one year of painful separation from Nathaniel, she could endure another, and more if need be. If she must suffer to win her happiness, then suffer she would, without complaint.

But the pain and the division she had brought to her once happy home… that she could not bear. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had been so happy together, for nearly five years, and now she, who loved them both so dearly, had torn them apart. There was so much painful guilt connected to this thought, that Georgiana could even find it in her heart to wish Elizabeth had not taken her side so thoroughly. To see the anguish in Fitzwilliam's eyes and the sorrow in Elizabeth's, when they each thought the other was not looking, hurt her more than any anger directed towards herself could have.

One other thing there was that, coupled with the first, prayed on her mind until her heart ached so badly that she could not sleep, and her stomach twisted itself into knots so that she could not eat, and that was the thought of what Nathaniel must be suffering. Darcy's letter, informing him in brief, to the point language that all connection with Miss Darcy was heretofore severed, could only have brought him more doubt and pain, despite Darcy's claim that it would provide relief from uncertainty. He would be tormented with worry for her, and what she might be and was suffering. And she was powerless to reassure him. She could not risk turning her brother's wrath against Nathaniel once more.

Georgiana pressed her fists into her eyes, fighting the dark despair which was threatening to drown her. She groped about desperately for a hand to save her, and suddenly, she found one.

Kitty's hand, Kitty's face, and Kitty's voice saying gently, _"You know that I would gladly help you to bear your burden if I could."_

Kitty would understand. Kitty would not let herself be estranged from anyone. She chose love, always, and Georgiana knew, suddenly, that if anyone in the world could help her it would be Kitty.

Richard's words, _"Remember that you will always have a second home here at Matlock," _brought comfort as well. Her brother trusted Richard, and Richard might be able to speak to Nathaniel for her.

But Fitzwilliam would surely try to stop her from going to Matlock. He _was_ proud, and he would not like it to seem as if any given situation was out of his control. Yet, there was nothing she could do here, not while Elizabeth continued to take her side and Darcy to refuse any sort of compromise. Surely, the way things stood, Kitty and Richard could only help.

Georgiana's decision was made.

Sitting up suddenly, she pulled out a sheet of paper, and with trembling fingers began to pen the following note:

_Dearest Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth,_

_It pains me to think that your first thought upon receiving this missive will be that I have run away with Mr. Wakefield. I would hope, brother, that my assurances to you would be enough to expel all such suspicions from your mind, but I fear you do not trust me as you once did. Thus, I will assure you at once that I am not running away with Nathaniel. I am going to Matlock it is true, but I am going to see Kitty only. It is my dearest wish and prayer that the separation and pain that I have brought you should leave with me._

_Georgiana_

The note written and sealed, she rang for Sally.

"I should like to ride this afternoon," she told her surprised maid. "Please fetch me my grey riding habit."

When she was dressed, and Sally had departed, Georgiana took up the sealed note from her desk, inscribed both her brother's and Elizabeth's names on the outside, and propped it up on her pillow.

Then she made her way slowly and listlessly downstairs, her heart pounding as she forced her steps to be slow.

She made her way to the entrance, where a footman opened the door for her, and she stepped out into the sunlight. There were grey clouds piling up in the northwest, but overhead the sun shone brightly in the cold, clear sky. Resolutely, she began walking towards the stables.

Fortune favored her, for there was no one to be seen in the stable, and Georgiana slipped in a side door and, after only a moment's hesitation, made her way to Fleurette's stall. She stroked the soft white nose gently and Fleurette whinnied softly. Darcy had deemed Fleurette ready to carry a lady when Georgiana had returned from London in the spring. Since then Georgiana had ridden her often, and the two got along perfectly. Fleurette was young and still full of energy. She would cover the twenty odd miles between Pemberley and Matlock easily.

Her decision made, Georgiana left the horse and made her way to the saddle room.

"We are leaving here Fleurette." Georgiana told the horse as she fitted the saddle on her back and fitted the straps under her belly with skillful fingers. The bridle too, she fitted with ease, for Fitzwilliam had insisted that a true horsewoman must know more than simply how to ride.

A memory of the two of them mucking out a stall together when she was thirteen, laughing until they cried about some long-forgotten joke, in one of those rare moments before his marriage when Fitzwilliam set aside his responsibilities as the new master of Pemberley, brought tears of a different sort to her eyes and she leaned her head against Fleurette for a moment, and a few drops fell on the horse's white neck. Fleurette nudged Georgiana gently, and she smiled a little, drying her eyes.

She led Fleurette out into the stable yard, mounted, and was soon beyond the gate, heading towards the woods which cut a good mile off the drive and would have her out on the road in a quarter of an hour.

She took one last look at Pemberley House, and turned resolutely away.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you for all the awesome reviews on the last couple chapters! I saw many dear, familiar faces and several new ones as well. :) As I've said before and will say again, you all are my motivation and inspiration to keep writing and I really don't know what I would do without you.

* * *

**Chapter 17: **

A loud clap of thunder jolted Elizabeth and made her stumble, but she was hurrying forward down the long hall again in a moment, with something like panic written on her face.

"Fitzwilliam?" she called out urgently, as she entered the library.

He did not reply but, rounding a corner, he came up against her and automatically put out a hand to steady her.

"Fitzwilliam, Georgiana left this morning for Matlock."

"What?"

"She says she has gone to visit Kitty," Elizabeth explained, holding out the opened letter which she had found only fifteen minutes before, when she had gone to Georgiana's rooms to see if there was anything that she could do for her.

Darcy grasped the letter and stepped quickly over to the nearest lamp to read it, for the room was full of shadows.

When he had finished, he turned back to Elizabeth and asked in a strained voice, "How long ago did she leave?"

"I do not know exactly. But I enquired with her maid and she told me that Georgiana dressed to go out riding at about one o'clock."

Darcy glanced up at the library clock. It read a quarter past two. "Then at most, she cannot be more than a third of the way to Matlock," he said, speaking his thoughts aloud.

He looked towards the window, taking in the rapidly darkening sky, and the brown autumn leaves swirling in the gusty air.

"This storm," Elizabeth began fearfully. "It came up so suddenly. She could not have anticipated it when she started."

Darcy turned back to her again; his face grim and his voice urgent. "I need to go after her," he said. "Is there anything else you learned that might help me find her?"

"She took Fleurette."

He ran from the house.

In the back courtyard he paused and looked up at the sky. A cold rain was beginning to fall, and the icy drops stung his upturned face. He blinked his eyes to clear them and looked about him for help.

He saw Mrs. Reynolds standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking out at rain, coming down harder every moment. As a boy, he had always turned to her when he was in any sort of trouble and he made for her now.

"Mrs. Reynolds," he called to her.

"Goodness Mr. Darcy!" The good woman's tone was shocked. "Come inside at once sir. What is possessing you that you should stand out in the cold and wet like this?" She beckoned him inside authoritatively.

He ducked inside and spoke hastily. "Georgiana went out and has not returned. I have reason to believe she is somewhere on the northeasterly road between here and Matlock and I need—" He hesitated, but his sister's safety was all that mattered at the moment. "I need men to help me search for her," he finished.

"Oh, the poor, sweet girl!" Mrs. Reynolds exclaimed in distress. A moment later she had composed herself again and said firmly. "Leave it to me to find men to help you. I shall send them out at once sir."

"I shall ride ahead myself. Have them follow me as soon as they are able."

"Very well sir." Mrs. Reynolds bobbed her head to him and hurried off in search of aid.

* * *

Darcy sped down the road, peering into the dimness ahead as the rain fell heavily, obscuring the road ahead and the thick woods on either side.

Ulysses snorted and tossed his head a little in protest of the weather, but he did not falter in his pace. He had been maintaining a fast canter for half an hour now, and had covered over six miles, but he seemed to sense the urgency of his master and showed no sign of tiring.

A cold wind drove against the left side of Darcy's face, numbing it, and the very speed at which he rode drove the rain straight into his eyes, blinding them, but he rode on, his only thought for his sister.

When Darcy had covered nearly eight miles, he knew that he must be close behind Georgiana. Even if she had quickened her pace when she saw the storm approaching, she could never have hoped to maintain the same speed at which he and Ulysses had been rushing along at, if she wished Fleurette to last the full twenty miles to Matlock.

Darcy slowed his brave, weary stallion to a walk. The undergrowth in the forest had thinned, and now the road ran along with wide-spread, towering oak trees on either hand, their browning leaves still clinging to their branches despite the best efforts of wind and rain. Tipping his head back, Darcy considered the sky. The lightning and thunder which had heralded the storm seemed to have spent itself, and there was simply a smooth expanse of greyness overhead from which the rain continued to stream down. The shelter, however slight, that the huge trees afforded from the elements was too tempting to resist, and Darcy urged Ulysses off the road and into the woods on his right. He rode on, weaving his way among the sheltering oaks, yet always keeping the road in sight on his left.

He drew Ulysses up now and then and shouted his sister's name, only to have it muffled, even in his own ears, by the unremittent rustling of the rain on the leaves. Nevertheless he persisted in calling, for a black dread was growing in his heart as he rode on and there was still no sign of Georgiana. He would pause and wait for an answer, but none ever came, and he would sink down in the saddle again and urge his loyal horse forward again.

The rain began to lighten, turning into a fine, driving mist, blowing in gusts in his face as the wind sprung out at him from behind each tree trunk. The cold dampness was bone chilling.

When he paused to call for what felt to Darcy like the hundredth time, the wind changed its path suddenly, driving the mists apart for an instant, and he could see clearly. There was something white shining among the trees in the dark murkiness ahead of him. He rode towards it as the swirling curtain of mist closed before him again.

Yes, there was something there. It was a horse. It was Fleurette, standing quietly, her head bowed a little. Dismounting quickly, he reached out and took hold of her bridle with a hand shaking from fear and from cold, and she raised her head slightly and looked at him.

There was a ravine just past where she stood, with a drop of about five feet and Darcy shuddered as he stepped forwards to peer over its edge.

The next moment he had slid down and was kneeling beside the lifeless form of his sister. He lifted her to hold her against him.

"Georgiana!" he called to her, rubbing her cold cheek.

There was no answer, she did not move, and her eyes did not open.

"Georgiana, I never meant to drive you to this. Please Georgie… Speak to me. Open your eyes. Tell me you are alright," he sobbed wildly as her head drooped on his arm, her body limp in his arms. "Wake up! Oh God!"

He held her tight against him, rocking back and forth a little in his agony, until, with a convulsive shudder, he forced himself to think clearly. He lifted her arm—the sleeve of her riding habit was soaked through to the skin—and, taking her wrist, tried to find a pulse, but his fingers were so stiff from his long ride, and so numb from the cold that he could feel nothing at first. He lay her wrist down and reached up to brush the wet hair away from her temple and felt for the pulse there.

There was a moment of complete stillness, man, girl, and horses all frozen like figures in a tragic painting, and only the continued wailing of the wind along the edge of the ravine overhead, and the rustle of rain on sodden leaves to betray that they were real flesh and blood.

The silence was shattered by a gasp of relief from Darcy. He had found the pulse. Georgiana lived still.

There were sudden shouts from the road and two men appeared beside him through the mist.

Mrs. Reynolds had sent one of the stable hands galloping away to the one of Pemberley's outlying farms, the tenant of which was in possession of two fine horses. This farm was not two miles from the road Darcy had taken, and with the two fresh horses the farmer and one of his hired hands had been able to arrive at the ravine shortly after Darcy.

The farmer dropped down on one knee beside the pair on the ground. "Is there a pulse sir?" he asked, his roughened voice unusually gentle.

Darcy nodded mutely.

"Well then," more cheerfully. "We'd best get her home now. My horses are still fresh and one of them will have you back to Pemberley House in no time at all sir. I can carry Miss Darcy up to the road if you like," offered the kindly farmer, as his hired hand—a brown eyed young man with black locks plastered to his forehead—scrambled to the top of the gully and took hold of Ulysses and Fleurette's wet bridles.

"No," Darcy shook his head. "I'll take her." He stood up with Georgiana in his arms, and then paused and called up to the lad, "You can ride the black horse home at a walk but lead the mare home. She must not be ridden until we have determined if she is at all injured."

The young man bobbed his head in understanding.

Darcy was forced to allow the farmer to help him lift Georgiana up the steep bank and onto the broad back of a chestnut colored horse, but there he took hold of her again and did not relinquish his hold again until she was laid in her bed and Elizabeth had rushed in, giving him only one agonized glance from her dark eyes before the door closed behind her and he was left in the hallway while two maids hurried to and fro with wet and dry garments.

Dr. Reeves, who had been summoned in case he was needed, by the thoughtful Mrs. Reynolds, passed him in the hall and then turned to face him with his hand on the knob.

"Go and get yourself out of those wet clothes, sir," he ordered. "And get someone to make you a hot cup of tea." He disappeared into the sick room.

Darcy went to his room where Wilkins assisted him in attending to the doctor's orders. As soon as his dry clothes were on and he had swallowed a mouthful or two of tea he returned to the hallway and knocked on Georgiana's door.

Elizabeth opened it and made way for him to enter. Fitzwilliam did not often have cause to enter Georgiana's chamber, and he was suddenly reminded of the night after his father had died. He had heard his eleven-year-old sister's anguished sobs and come to comfort her. They had clung to each other, his dark head bent over her fair one, as she cried bitterly and he shook with the intensity of his suppressed grief.

"She has regained consciousness Mr. Darcy," Dr. Reeves said briskly. "There is no blow to the head and only her left ankle is badly sprained. However, her long exposure to the elements and the shock of her fall have made her feverish. She will have to be kept very quiet."

Darcy moved to the bedside and took Georgiana's hand in his. Her dark eyes shone preternaturally bright and she opened her lips to speak.

"Hush," he whispered. "It is alright, dear."

"I need to tell you… Fleurette didn't throw me. It was so dark, and the rain was coming down so hard that I could barely see. I got off to look for some sort of shelter underneath the trees, thinking I would wait out the worst of the storm there. I didn't see the ravine in time, and I fell. She stayed with me."

"Yes," Darcy said. "She did. I might not have found you but for her."

"Is she hurt?" Georgiana asked anxiously.

"I think not."

Georgiana coughed and the doctor stepped forwards again. "Talking is not recommended," he warned.

Darcy looked again at his sister. "The doctor is right," he said gently. "You must rest now, and not fret about anything," he added, a little hesitantly, for he knew she could not simply forget all that had led her to this moment any more than he could. "At present you must focus on getting well and strong again quickly Georgiana."

He tried to give her an encouraging smile, but she had already turned her head away and closed her eyes wearily.

"I will stay with her tonight Doctor," Elizabeth told him.

"Very good Ma'am. Only, do not wear yourself out." He looked at her kindly.

"Well Miss Darcy, I do not think you have anything amiss with you that a week or two of rest will not cure," he continued, now addressing Georgiana, who lay very still, with her head still turned away, and did not smile at him as she normally would have.

* * *

Darcy went to his office, intending to work for an hour and then enquire after Georgiana again. But he was so utterly spent that he at last collapsed onto the chaise in his office and fell into an exhausted sleep.

When he awoke it was early morning, the storm was gone, and the sun was just peeping over the horizon. In a moment, Darcy had flung aside the blanket someone had covered him with during the night, and was hurrying up the stairs towards Georgiana's room.

He met Elizabeth in the hall, and he knew from her white face and tired eyes that she had not slept at all.

"Elizabeth, how is she?" Darcy asked nervously.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes fearful. "She is not well. Her fever has risen, and she does not know me."

He groaned and leant against the wall for support.

"Come see her," Lizzy said quietly.

They entered together and Darcy bent over his sister who lay, twitching convulsively, hands clutching as the blankets, mumbling feebly to herself.

"Georgiana," he called softly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him and an incredulous smile dawned on her face. "Nathaniel, you came!" she cried out joyfully, still staring at her brother.

Darcy recoiled as if she had struck him.

"He is all she talks about." Elizabeth's voice came quietly from across the room. "She calls for him, she talks to him, she tries to sing for him."

Darcy held up a hand as if to shield himself from her words.

He fled the room and the house and Pemberley itself, riding the ten miles to Lambton and back on a spirited young horse, Ulysses being sorely in need of rest, then riding up and down the driveway on his return until he was tired enough to stop the circling thoughts.

* * *

The next day Georgiana was worse. The doctor's face was bleak when a white-faced Darcy confronted him in the hall and demanded to know if her life was in danger.

"I will be frank with you, Mr. Darcy," he said, sighing a little. "Miss Darcy is not in serious danger as of this moment. But she is headed down the path to very great danger indeed."

Darcy fell back a pace and put a hand against the wall as if to steady himself.

"I am sorry, sir, that I cannot offer you more hopeful news, but those are the facts of the case."

"I understand," Darcy said in a numb, detached voice.

Dr. Reeves looked at Darcy for a moment, a slightly anxious frown creasing his forehead, but the master of Pemberley did not seem to see him anymore.

His jaw was clenched, and there was an unseeing look in his eyes. There was agonized confusion in his face.

* * *

Four days passed and Georgiana continued feverish, delirious, crying out sometimes for Fitzwilliam, sometimes for Elizabeth, sometimes for Kitty, and even once for her mother. But Nathaniel's name continued to fall most frequently from her parched lips, in the tenderest of pleading tones.

Darcy would sit by her until he could bear the sound no longer and would flee the room, clutching at his agonized head.

The doctor looked very grave.

"Surely there is something more we can do Doctor," Lizzy pleaded one evening, when she and the doctor were alone in the sickroom. "We cannot abandon hope of her recovery." Tears swam in her dark eyes as she looked towards the bed where Georgiana lay, and then back at the doctor, desperation written in their depths.

Dr. Reeves sighed heavily. "You are right Mrs. Darcy. We must not give up on her. But she has given up on herself."

"What do you mean sir?"

"I mean that there is something troubling her mind constantly, to the point where she has lost all hope. She seems to have no motive for living strong enough to pull her through this crisis. In her most conscious moments she shows no sign of interest in anything around her."

"Surely she has reasons enough to live—people who will grieve her for the rest of their lives!" Lizzy broke down here and hid her face with her hands.

"There is one thing Mrs. Darcy…" He looked around carefully as if fearful of being overheard.

"Yes?" She raised eyes where hope shone again.

"I have hesitated to mention it but… the fellow called Nathaniel. She calls for him so often and… well… without knowing any of the… particulars of the case… is there any chance that he might be sent for? Of course, I may be misunderstanding the matter entirely, but from what she says of him I would say that he, whoever he is, may alone have the power to bring her back to a love of life."

Elizabeth's eyes were filled with pain, but there was determination there too. "Doctor, I will do my best. I don't know… but I thank you."

She showed him to the door, and then turned on her heel abruptly and asked a nearby maid, "Where is Mr. Darcy?"

"In the parlor Ma'am."

"Thank you, Molly."

She lifted her head, straightened her shoulders and marched down the hall and into the parlor. Half way into the room she faltered. Darcy was sitting at Georgiana's piano, his head resting on the closed lid. There was a moment of complete silence, and then he raised his head slowly, and looked at her.

Elizabeth spoke quickly before her courage failed her. "The doctor says that Georgiana will die unless we send for the one person who can give her the will to recover."

Darcy looked at her, not with anger, but with a strange sort of blankness. "Very well," he said. "I shall send for him."

It was Elizabeth's turn to stare blankly at him. "You… you will send for him?" she repeated.

"Yes." He rose wearily as he spoke and came towards her. Elizabeth moved aside to let him pass, but she half expected him to stop, she wanted him to stop before her, and look into her eyes.

"Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth called his name questioningly as he continued past her towards the door, still with that same empty gaze and listless bearing.

He turned then and fixed his dark eyes on her face.

"Fitzwilliam… Thank you…" Elizabeth struggled to speak.

A pause, and then Darcy said in a shaking voice, "I wanted to keep her safe… and happy. I failed. I broke her heart and drove her out into that storm. If she dies… it will be my fault. Thank me not, Elizabeth."

She opened her mouth and started forward to contradict him, but he held up a hand and said, "Not now Lizzy. I couldn't bear it."

He turned and left the room before she could form another word. She heard his footsteps pass down the hall and enter his study. Then she heard the creak of his chair as he sat down to write.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: **

Nathaniel jotted down a last figure in his notebook, closed it, and slipped it into his pocket. He rose, a little wearily, and took up his hat, preparatory to his departure.

Lord Matlock, still sitting behind his desk, was looking at him thoughtfully, his elbows leaning on the polished wood of his desk, his hands clasped before his face.

"I will see you Monday morning sir," Nathaniel said.

Lord Matlock started a little, as if he had been lost in thought, and then rose and held out his hand to his steward.

When they had shaken hands, Lord Matlock hesitated a moment, ran a hand through his sandy hair, and then broke out unexpectedly, "Mr. Wakefield, do not take it as an impertinence that I see that something is distressing you. Your work has been exemplary; I could not ask for a better steward, but… it has not escaped my notice that you have been unhappy since your arrival and this last week you seem especially troubled. I do not mean to pry into another man's affairs, but I simply wished to tell you that if there is ever anything I can do for you, to please let me know at once. I should hate to lose you by any neglect of my own."

Nathaniel smiled quickly, as if in denial of Lord Matlock's words, but it was no good, and he dropped the façade after a moment and said, "I thank you, sir. But you may rest assured that any troubles which may plague me have nothing to do with my work here. I am very grateful for my position and can ask for nothing more."

Lord Matlock nodded reluctantly. "Well, I wish you all the best, Mr. Wakefield."

* * *

In the hall on his way out, Nathaniel was accosted by little Catherine Farley. She smiled at him, for he was a familiar figure to her.

"Miss Cathy," with a bow, despite the fact that they were quite the only two people in sight and the little girl was hardy old enough to care if he chose to skip the formality.

Her smile widened and she held out her doll to him. He bent to admire it.

"What is her name?" he asked in a tone of great interest.

Cathy only looked at him with her big hazel eyes.

"That is a lovely dress she has on."

"Lovely dress," Cathy murmured, hugging the doll to herself again.

"There you are Cathy." Kitty appeared at the end of the hall. "Good evening Mr. Wakefield." She smiled pleasantly.

"Good evening Ma'am."

"Are you heading home then?"

"Yes, Lady Matlock," he said with a smile. "But Miss Cathy wished to show me her fine doll first."

"Lovely dress!" Cathy told her mother, turning to her mother, her little face alight with happiness.

"Yes, it is darling," Kitty said warmly. Then to Nathaniel, "Thank you for sparing time to attend to her."

"It is a pleasure Ma'am," he brushed away her thanks, smiling down at Cathy who was again holding out the doll to him.

"She is very proud of her doll's new dress," Kitty explained. "Her Aunt Georgiana made it for her during her recent visit."

"It is beautiful," Nathaniel said, touching the hem of one of the silken sleeves Georgiana had stitched with new interest.

He admired the doll another moment for Cathy's sake, and then placed it carefully back in its little mother's arms. "Take good care of her and her new dress, Miss Cathy."

He bowed to Kitty and said, "And now I shall bid you good day Ma'am."

"Goodbye Mr. Wakefield."

* * *

"That boy is heartbroken," Kitty told her husband as she entered his office with Cathy in tow a moment later.

"Who?"

"Mr. Wakefield."

"You can hardly call him a boy, my love. He is older than you I am sure," Richard commented with a smile, bending down to receive Cathy's kiss.

"He is young, unmarried, heartsick. I would call him a boy."

"I cannot argue with you on any of those points, especially the last one," Richard agreed, forgetting to tease. He frowned a little in thought. "Darcy told me his mother died last summer. Perhaps he is still grieving her."

"He must be lonely, living in the steward's house all alone."

"Perhaps he needs a wife to cheer him up," Richard said, smiling at his own pretty wife.

"I do not see why he would have any trouble finding one with his good looks and fine position."

"You have taken rather a fancy to young Wakefield," Richard said, returning to his teasing manner as he picked up a letter on his desk, and broke its seal.

"I feel a motherly interest in his wellbeing," returned Kitty, refusing to play his game.

Richard's reply was never uttered, for he stood up suddenly with the open letter in his hand and said worriedly, "Georgiana is ill."

"What? Let me see," Kitty exclaimed, coming quickly to look over his shoulder at the distressing paper.

"She has a high fever and is very weak."

"Poor darling!" Kitty cried tenderly.

"Darcy asks us not to come at present, but to keep her in our prayers. He wants… He wants us to be prepared for the worst, Kitty."

"Oh Richard… not that…" Kitty said shakily as the gravity of the situation was thrust upon her. "She isn't in serious danger."

"It seems so," Richard said shortly, for his throat felt very tight and he had trouble speaking.

Kitty's eyes filled with tears and Richard dropped the letter and put his arms about her comfortingly.

"Have we not suffered enough without this fresh anguish?" she asked in a weary, trembling voice.

"All our troubles thus far have brought us in the end to greater happiness than we knew before they began," Richard reminded her, in a voice that he tried to make hopeful. "Let us not assume the worst, Kitty, but trust that this one will be like to the others and Georgie will recover."

"I pray God you are right," Kitty whispered.

* * *

Nathaniel picked up the letter lying on his kitchen table. It was from Pemberley and for a moment he stared at it stupidly. Then he was tearing it open and hastily reading the first lines. He read it once, realized he knew not what it said, and read it again. Then he called for Mrs. Higgins, the elderly woman who cooked his meals. He bade her pack a bag for him and send it after him to Pemberley and to tell Lord Matlock that he had been called away by a family emergency. Then he left the house.

* * *

It was dusk when Nathaniel stood once more on the steps at Pemberley House. Its great doors loomed up before him with the same cold and unwelcoming glare they had worn the last time he stood there, and Nathaniel almost paused on the first step. But he pushed his way through the invisible barrier with a quick running step and knocked loudly on the door.

It swung open and Elizabeth Darcy stood there. She grasped his arm eagerly and said quickly, "Come upstairs, Mr. Wakefield. She needs you."

That was all, but her face said far more, and Nathaniel's heart was heavy as he followed her quick steps up the grand staircase.

In the hallway Elizabeth suddenly came to a stop and Nathaniel had to draw himself up short to keep from bumping into her.

Then he saw that Mr. Darcy stood in the doorway of Georgiana's room. For a moment the two men looked at each other silently. Darcy's face was full of questions. Doubt, mistrust, and insecurity struggled desperately with agony, and with hope, in the depths of his dark eyes.

Nathaniel looked and saw that this man was not the infallible master he had always seen him as. He was simply a man, struggling to do the right thing, as men have since the beginning of time.

Darcy, in turn, saw his own suffering reflected in the blue eyes which regarded him so earnestly. An image of George Wickham's careless smile flickered before his mind's eye. Nathaniel was no Wickham. Nathaniel cared.

Darcy stepped aside from the door and gave Nathaniel a simple nod. The younger man bowed his head in acknowledgement and walked past him into the sickroom. Elizabeth followed him. Darcy came last and, when he had closed the door, he leaned against it as if his last drop of strength had been wrung from him.

Nathaniel approached the sickbed where Georgiana lay, her face flushed with fever and her breathing fast and shallow, and in the long moment that he stood there it would have been hard to say which of the two was suffering greater torment.

"Speak to her," Elizabeth whispered. "Let her hear your voice."

Nathaniel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Georgiana," he called to her quietly. Then, louder, "Georgiana, it is Nathaniel. I have come."

Very slowly, Georgiana's head turned towards the sound of his voice. Her eyelids quivered and slowly opened. The fever gave her eyes a brightness, but the depths were dull and empty.

"Georgiana? It's me, Nathaniel. Please, I need you to get well… for me."

Her dry lips parted, and Elizabeth raised her head gently and helped her to drink.

The small swallow brought on a fit of coughing and she lay back and was still again for a few minutes.

Her eyes opened again to fix themselves on Nathaniel's face. Her lips moved and his name came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Nathaniel?" There was no surprise in her tone now, and no joy.

"Yes, dearest, I have come."

"I've seen you so many times. You always disappear." Her tone was plaintive, like that of a small child.

"She thinks you are but another dream," Elizabeth whispered painedly.

Nathaniel bent over Georgiana and took her hand in his. "I am not going anywhere Georgiana."

"But Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana started up and Elizabeth pushed her down gently as she went on wildly, "Let us run, Nathaniel, or he will send you away again."

"No Georgiana, I won't send him away," Darcy said earnestly, rousing himself from his position against the door and stepping forward quickly. "He is here to stay, so you must get better."

"His mother is dead. He is lonely," Georgiana whispered dazedly, as she slipped away into oblivion once more.

The two men looked at each-other and a bond, born of their shared pain was suddenly stretched between them. They both loved Georgiana. It was enough.

* * *

An hour had passed, and night had fallen in earnest over Pemberley, shrouding the world outside in inky blackness.

Georgiana had not wakened again, but Nathaniel had shaken his head when Elizabeth had gently offered to show him to a guest room, and remained sitting beside her, determined to be there when, or if, she opened her eyes once more.

Opposite him sat Mrs. Reynolds. It had been necessary to take her into the family's confidence upon Nathaniel's impending arrival, and Elizabeth had given her a brief summary of all that had passed.

The worthy housekeeper had borne the revelation with less shock than might have been expected, and when the tale was finished she had said, "Well Mrs. Darcy, I am torn I am. On the one hand, a prince wouldn't be able to give that girl all the diamonds and pearls she deserves, and on the other, you'll not find a better young man than Nathaniel Wakefield though you spent a lifetime searching."

These words ran through Elizabeth's mind as she paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at the silent figures grouped about the bed. Satisfied that Georgiana would be well watched over in her absence, she slipped out of the room and made her way softly downstairs.

Her slippered feet made only the faintest of whispering sounds on the polished wood floor as she passed quietly down the hall towards the door of her husband's study. It was open slightly and she peered in.

Darcy was hunched over in his chair, his elbows on his knees, his head buried in his hands, his fingers tangled in his curly hair.

The door creaked ever so slightly as Elizabeth touched it and Darcy looked up. In an instant he had started to his feet and asked urgently, "Is there any change?"

"No. There is no change." Elizabeth shook her head quickly, and he fell back a step, half relieved that Georgiana was no worse, half disheartened that she was no better.

He looked up presently, and met her gaze, and there was a long moment of perfect stillness, as each stood in their places, staring at each other wordlessly.

Even in the dim glow of the one lamp burning on the mahogany desk, Darcy looked worn and haggard. His face was lined with suffering and his shoulders were bent with weariness, and as she looked earnestly upon him, Elizabeth's eyes filled with sudden tears. He had been fighting a war within himself for nearly two weeks now, and she, who professed to love him so dearly, had left him to fight his inner demons alone and, worse, had ridiculed him for his struggle. How unfairly she had treated him.

Darcy looked at his Elizabeth, where she stood hesitating in the doorway, so close and yet so far away. How he loved her. He was drowning in a sea of uncertainty, but his love for her was a constant.

"Elizabeth…" He whispered her name. "Can you ever forgive me?"

She stretched out her arms to him then, and ran forward, and he stepped quickly out from behind his desk to meet her and caught her in his arms and held her close.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, as heavy sobs shook his tall frame. "My Lizzy, my love."

Elizabeth wrapped her arms about his waist and held him tightly as he wept, his tears falling on her hair, and hers onto his sleeve.

They stood thus for a long time.

At last Elizabeth pulled her head back to look into his eyes, and took his face between her hands, saying earnestly, "I can and do forgive you dearest. But you must do the same for me. I have treated you with scorn and refused to even try and understand you, all the while expecting you to love me as much as ever."

"Of course I loved you as much as ever!" he exclaimed, pulling her tight against him once more and pressing his cheek against her hair. "Nothing could ever change that."

* * *

Elizabeth was asleep on the low sofa in the corner of the room, her legs tucked up almost to her chest, her breathing slow and even. In the large chair by the bedside, Darcy sat, his arms folded, and his head bowed, also lost to the world.

Nathaniel sat opposite Darcy in a chair on the other side of the bed. He alone of all the occupants of the room was awake. His weary head was resting in his hands, but his eyes were fixed purposely on Georgiana's face.

For the last twenty minutes he had been watching Georgiana's whole countenance undergo a subtle change. She had had been restless, but now she lay as still as death under the white coverlet. Her face, which had been flushed with fever, was now very pale, and there had been one moment when a chill of horror had run through him, when he fancied that the gentle rise and fall of her chest had stopped altogether.

Just so had his mother looked in the last weeks before her death, when he sat by her side night after night, his presence the only comfort he could offer her, and something deep in Nathaniel's soul cried out that it was cruel and unjust that everyone he loved should waste away and die before his eyes and leave him broken and desolate, while another voice whispered that it was his own fault, that the pain that he had caused Georgiana had reduced her to this, in short, that he had killed her.

Nathaniel's face contorted with the agony of his own thoughts, and he ducked his head, clasping his hands behind his neck like a man shrinking away from the executioner's axe, and like a condemned man he was murmuring a prayer.

And then… Georgiana stirred, ever so slightly, and sighed, and in an instant Nathaniel's head was up, and he was on his feet and bending over her.

"Georgiana?" he called her in a low, urgent voice. "Georgiana, can you hear me?"

He took her hand as he spoke and, wonder of wonders, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

Her golden hair, carefully brushed by Elizabeth, lay loose about her shoulders. Her dark eyes looked clear and there was a wondering look in them which spoke of consciousness.

"Are you real?" she whispered.

"Yes, love. I am real and I am here," Nathaniel said softly, while tears gathered in his eyes and dropped on her frail hands.

"But how?"

"Never mind that now. Just rest, knowing that all is well and that your brother knows I am here and does not object."

"You are truly here," she whispered happily, too weak to question this miraculous turn of events any further.

For a moment he could not answer for his tears. Then, "I am here. But more importantly, you are here. I have nearly lost you three times now Georgiana. Promise me you will never leave me again."

"If Fitzwilliam does not make me, then of course not."

As if roused by the sound of his name, Darcy woke and was on his feet in a moment.

"Georgiana?"

She turned her eyes upon him and smiled at him lovingly.

"Thank God," he gasped, his voice shaking with emotion. "Thank God." Then, as if fearing the opportunity would slip away, "Can you forgive me Georgiana?"

"How could I not?" she asked tenderly.

Elizabeth too was awake now and bending over the bed.

"Lizzy," Georgiana whispered, looking from one to the other of those clustered around her, her face weary, but her eyes alight with quiet happiness.

"We are very happy to see you awake," Lizzy said with a bright smile, as if the days and nights of watching and waiting in agony had never been.

Nathaniel had turned away and walked over to the dark window as Lizzy spoke. He stood there in the shadows, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth, as the tears of relief and gratitude continued to run down his face.

Elizabeth saw him, and taking pity on him said gently to Georgiana, "You should sleep again now dear. Too much excitement just at present might do you harm."

"I shall sit with her," Darcy said, "if you will have me Georgiana."

She nodded and smiled.

"Mr. Wakefield?" Elizabeth called softly.

He turned away from the window and came back over to the bedside. "I shall see you again in the morning Georgiana," he said, in a voice he tried hard to make steady and cheerful for her sake.

"You will not leave Pemberley tonight?" she asked anxiously, still not quite able to believe that he would not disappear again.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

She smiled, reassured. "I am so glad," she said, adding softly, "I love you."

"And I you," Nathaniel replied, his voice breaking on the last word, before turning and fairly running from the room, to find a place where he could gain control of his tears privately.

Elizabeth turned to follow him out, but Darcy caught her hand as she moved towards the door and gave her a long, grateful look.

She smiled at him, happy tears swimming in her own eyes, and bent to press a kiss to his forehead.

Georgiana saw the smile and kiss and closed her eyes with a happy sigh. All was well between Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam again. Her every wish was satisfied and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! This chapter was such a joy to write after all the angst. I truly hope it was a pleasure to read as well. :)

The rest of November is going to be insanely busy for me, so I am going to take a short break from writing, and finish chapters 19 and 20 (the final two chapters) in December when I have time to do them justice. Thank you all for being so patient with me, and for all the other ways in which you have supported me and helped me grow throughout this story. You all mean the world to me!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Guys, if I ever say something again about having time in December to do justice to any non-holiday related projects, please feel free to tell me I'm delusional. xD Also, to complete the process of making myself wrong on every possible point, this story is refusing to fit into the twenty chapters I claimed it would. As things stand now it's looking more like it's going to be twenty-two chapters.

Hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter 19: **

The first three days following the events narrated in the previous chapter, passed in a sort of happy dream for Georgiana. She was very weak, and slept most of the time, but whenever she woke either Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam, or Nathaniel would be beside her, and sometimes all three at once, for all seemed loathed to let her out of their sight for even an hour.

On the morning of the fourth day she was able to be carried to the sofa in Elizabeth's sitting room, where she could lie in the sunlight which poured through the window, warming the spot despite the cold air outside.

She fell asleep there, and when she woke, feeling mush refreshed, she saw her brother standing in the doorway. He seemed to be hesitating, so she smiled welcomingly, and held out a hand to him. At that he came forward and sat down beside her, positioning his chair so that he had a good view of her face where it lay amidst the pillows.

He was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and Georgiana's heart began to beat violently, for she knew what must come when he spoke.

At last Darcy roused himself and asked, "Georgiana, do you truly wish to marry Nathaniel Wakefield?"

Georgiana started, caught off guard at the abruptness of the question, but her voice was firm as she replied quietly, "Yes, Fitzwilliam, I do."

Darcy nodded resignedly. It was, of course, the answer he had been expecting, but something had compelled him to ask it one last time. "We have discussed the disadvantages of such a marriage," he began. "The censure of society, the drastic changes in your daily life which would be the necessary result of a drastically lower income, the differences between your educations and interests, and yet," with a short sigh, "you remain determined."

"Forgive me Fitzwilliam." Georgiana's voice was a little timid. "But your first statement was not entirely true. We never _discussed_ these drawbacks. You spoke of them, and I listened, but never had the time or courage to reply."

Darcy was silent again, and Georgiana feared that she had angered him. But when he finally spoke, he said, "In that conversation I was both thoughtless and unkind. Please forgive me, and if you have the strength to tell me now what you wish you were given the chance to say then, I will listen."

"It _was_ wrong of you to hurry away, refusing me time to speak, but I cannot find it in my heart to blame you, brother, for anything you said or did during that time," Georgiana said softly. "I… was wrong to hide something so important from you for so long. I did not know what else to do, but at the same time you had every right to be hurt and angry."

Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgement of her words. "Thank you for being more understanding than I was then," he said quietly, and then the two fell into silence once more, as Georgiana gathered her thoughts together to address his fears.

"I know that I will be shunned by society, Fitzwilliam," she began at last. "That has been clear to me from the start. But what I do not understand is why should I care to be accepted by a group of people so blinded by rank and wealth that those lacking them are somehow worthy of contempt. We are Darcys, Fitzwilliam!" she cried suddenly. "We care nothing for _society_! We stand apart and turn up our noses at the self-pretentious nobility, the fortune hunters, and the social climbers of the world."

Darcy's eyes flickered a little at this outburst, but he did not speak.

"Let us not quarrel then, brother," Georgiana continued more gently, "over the loss of such society, for I do not expect to be lonely without it. Indeed, I expect to be less lonely than I have been all my life, by freeing myself from the gilded cage in which I was necessarily brought up. You see Fitzwilliam, I have come to value those people living all about me—Nathaniel most of all of course, but there _are_others—whom society would consider to be my inferiors, but in truth face life with so much courage and grace that I should be ashamed to be compared to them. And for this you have only yourself to blame, Fitzwilliam, for it was you, who by the respect and consideration you show to all the people under your care, taught me to see them as humans worthy of esteem and interest."

There was a slight pause, and then Georgiana asked unexpectedly, "Do you remember Mrs. Bartlett, brother?"

Darcy looked at her in some confusion but answered in the affirmative.

"I have never had the good fortune to meet the lady," Georgiana said quietly. "But I remember being struck by how highly you spoke of her after only an hour in her home. Indeed, from your words I inferred that she was universally respected and even loved by allwho knew her."

A pause and then, "She was the wife of the steward of Matlock, Fitzwilliam."

The expression on Darcy's face was indescribable, but it was not angry or distressed, and there was something in it which gave Georgiana the courage to finish, "So you see brother, you have dug your own grave. For in this matter again it was _you_ who proved to me that not only are those people who work with their own two hands to win their daily bread worthy of my respect, but that by striving to be a good, noble, caring woman I myself may win the good opinion of those whose good opinion is worth having, regardless of my station in life."

And then Darcy laughed. It was a laugh which might have been a sob, and it made tears spring to Georgiana's eyes, for she knew in that instant that she had won, and Fitzwilliam Darcy would not oppose her marriage to Nathaniel Wakefield any longer.

"It seems I simply cannot win!" he exclaimed. Then more soberly, "I could not let my beloved sister pledge her life to someone without being sure she knew what she was about. But you are wiser than I realized, Georgiana, and I bow to your superiority of mind and heart."

Georgiana's only answer was to raise herself shakily from the sofa, and fling her arms around her brother's neck, at the same time breaking down into a torrent of tears.

"Georgie, stop!" Fitzwilliam cried, panic in his voice. "You are not strong enough for this. You will be ill again."

But it was several minutes before Georgiana could be calm. Her brother, realizing that she could in no way check the tears of joy and relief streaming down her face, gave up protesting, and simply held her tightly, until at last her tears ceased to flow. Then he laid her gently down again on the sofa, bending over her with all the tender solicitude of an anxious mother.

"Do not be alarmed Fitzwilliam," Georgiana whispered. "I shall not be ill again. I am too happy to be ill."

"No, but you must rest again now. Or I shall never forgive myself for speaking so soon. I should not have, but there are things that must be settled, that cannot wait any longer."

"I will rest," Georgiana promised. "But Fitzwilliam," catching his hand. "The last fear you spoke of was that I and Nathaniel should not be happy together, due to the dissimilarities of our educations and interests. I have no explanation based on reason to allay that fear. All I can do is ask you to believe me when I tell you that there is no one whose heart I understand better, or whom I would rather spend the rest of my life with. And I know, Fitzwilliam, that if you took the time to truly know him, you would value him almost as highly as I do. Will you try, please?"

She looked at him earnestly, knowing that he could refuse her nothing just now.

"I will," he said quietly. Then, "I must go now. Can I do anything for you before I leave?"

She shook her head, and he gave her a last smile and left the room.

* * *

For the next quarter of an hour Darcy could be seen pacing up and down the hall outside his study, deep in thought. Every so often he would stop by the window at the far end and stare out with unseeing eyes for a moment, before resuming his restless walking once more.

Upstairs, in the guest room assigned to him, Nathaniel too was pacing anxiously.

The state of absorbing bliss into which Georgiana's recover had thrown her family and himself could not last forever. Indeed, it seemed vital that he return to Matlock and explain his absence before another day had passed. Yet how could he explain something that he did not understand himself? Nothing had been settled. A thousand questions hung in the air, unanswered, and worse, unvoiced. Yet surely it was for Mr. Darcy to speak first.

So deep was his reverie that a knock on the door made him start violently. He opened it. Mr. Darcy stood there.

"Mr. Wakefield?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you ride?"

"Yes."

"Join me then."

That was all, but it was enough, and Nathaniel's face was white with apprehension as he walked beside Darcy to the stable yard and mounted the dark bay chosen for him, for he knew that the hour for voicing both questions and answers had finally come.

But out in the open air, with the brown, wintery fields stretching out before them, the pounding of their horses hooves in their ears, and the cold, bracing wind against their faces, nothing seemed as awkward or impossible, and Nathaniel saw that Darcy had known that it would be so, and was grateful.

Eventually Darcy slowed his horse, and Nathaniel matched his pace, so that they came to a stop at the crest of a long, sloping hill. In the valley before them was one of Pemberley's outlying farms, and beyond that the hills ran up again to meet the sky.

"You know this place, do you not?" Darcy asked.

"Of course. It was my home for the first eight years of my life. For a long time I hoped to come back to it, and live once more in the house where my mother was happy." Nathaniel spoke quietly, almost more to himself than his companion. "But all that was long ago. I like to think that she sees me wherever I am now, and I have left this place, and that dream behind."

"Indeed you have," Darcy replied. "As you must eventually leave behind the stewardship of Matlock, if you wish to marry my sister."

Nathaniel's head jerked up and he fixed his eyes on his companion's face. The cold wind had brought color back to his fresh young face, and his eyes glowed with layers of emotion as deep as the ocean they resembled.

Darcy had to look away. It was too easy to like Nathaniel Wakefield. He must not be too hasty to give him the confirmation he desired. He must make him understand the worth of the treasure he was to receive.

Thus, his voice had a warning note in it as he replied quickly, "That is only one of my terms. You have yet to hear the others."

"Please tell me what they are."

"Before I do so, I should—" Darcy broke off, as if unsure just what to say, and then began again. "That day at Matlock," there was no need for further elaboration, "You and Georgiana both spoke of a four-year plan of yours. I should like to hear what it was. I do not want the jargon of society," he added, with a smile Nathaniel did not quite understand. "I want the figures and dates which you surely have, since if you did not, you would make a poor steward, and whatever other faults you have that is not one of them."

Nathaniel flushed a little, but he began without hesitation.

"I intended to remain at Matlock for the aforementioned four years, in which time I would save 1,200 pounds with which to purchase fifty acres of farmland with a house or cottage on it.

"With my status as a respectable farmer, and the proof of my willingness to work and desire to rise, I and Georgiana would have revealed our attachment to you. I knew you would not approve, but it seemed more likely that you would reluctantly give us your blessing at that time then if, as matters turned out, the matter was to be sprung on you at once as things stand now.

"Providing all went as planned and Georgiana became my wife, I would have, with her permission, used 5,000 pounds from her dowry to enlarge the property to the three-hundred acres necessary to place us among the landed gentry. That may sound mercenary to you. All I can do is assure you that my main object in doing so would be to further Georgiana's comfort and happiness. The estate, if managed well, would bring in at least 300 a year, and with Georgiana's 1,000 per annum, our potential yearly income can be estimated at 1,300 pounds."

Darcy nodded, his face betraying nothing of his being either satisfied or disappointed.

"Would you consent to adopt that plan with a few alterations?"

"I will listen to them," Nathaniel said, and Darcy was suddenly very pleased that he had not agreed without hearing them.

"Instead of four years, you will remain as steward of Matlock for one. This will allow you to save close to 500 pounds, and will likewise give my cousin enough time to find another steward. At the end of next year, you will use 12,000 pounds from Georgiana's fortune, and your own savings, to purchase a four-hundred-acre estate, entire, and with a suitable house. Such an estate would bring in close to 500 a year and Georgiana would have 700 per annum. Your income would not change materially, but Georgiana would be required to wait for one year, instead of four. Her happiness is our mutual object I trust?"

Nathaniel was looking off into the distance, to where the Derbyshire hills met the sky. After a moment he replied in a low voice, "It is, sir."

"That is well," said Darcy, and then he too was silent, both suddenly conscious of the fact that if they spoke, they would cry.

At last Nathaniel stirred and hastily brushed a hand across his eyes. Turning to Darcy he asked, "What of Lord Matlock, sir?"

"I intend to write a letter this very night, asking him and his wife to come at once. I will only tell him I have business to discuss with him, and that a visit with Lady Matlock would bring great delight to Georgiana and Elizabeth. Such… information… as we have to impart to them is best delivered in person."

Nathaniel nodded. "Thank you."

Darcy understood that the simple expression of gratitude was all encompassing.

"I— I always thought highly of you Wakefield, before your association with Georgiana drove all thoughts but of fear and anger out of my mind. I trust that I shall soon be able to think as highly, if not more highly of you again, as our relationship becomes that of brothers. I trust likewise that you understand that my anger and fear was based on my affection for my sister, a terror of seeing her hurt, and my fear of losing her."

"Do you have any idea how much Georgiana loves you?" Nathaniel asked suddenly.

"What?" Darcy's surprise at the words getting the better of his good breading for a moment.

"In all our conversations together, she never spoke of you to me in anything but terms of the highest respect and affection… except perhaps once at the very beginning when she referred to you as being too careful of her, and even then she admitted to knowing it was out of a desire to protect her. You never lost her, and you never will."

Darcy did not answer, but he heard, and was grateful.

A few moments later the two men turned their horses about, and disappeared back in the direction of Pemberley House.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you all for the warm welcome back! :)

* * *

**Chapter 20: November 1818**

Darcy sent his letter to Matlock by special messenger, and Richard and Kitty arrived the following day at noon.

They had come alone and with haste, for they had been suffering under great uncertainty and distress for the last five days, with Nathaniel's sudden and worrisome departure coming directly on the heels of the frightening news of Georgiana's illness. Darcy had sent them a letter three days before, as soon as he was sure that Georgiana was truly recovering, but that letter, though it made Kitty cry tears of relief, said little besides that Georgiana was out of danger, and did nothing to answer the many other anxious questions which were troubling them.

Elizabeth ran out to meet the carriage, while Darcy and Nathaniel remained inside.

"Elizabeth!" Kitty cried, running forward so that they met at the foot of the steps in a breathless embrace. "We were so worried Lizzy. But she completely out of danger now?"

"Yes, she is recovering beautifully. But I was frightened too Kitty, so frightened," Elizabeth murmured, letting her head rest a moment on her sister's shoulder. "But," lifting it again bravely. "We must be thankful now that it is all over.

"She will be _so_ happy to see you, both of you," she added, turning to Richard and grasping the hands he held out to her. "And there is much we have to tell you."

"What do you mean, Elizabeth?" Richard asked, confused by the strange tone of suppressed excitement and anxiety in which she uttered the last words.

"Come inside and we shall explain," was all the answer she gave him, turning as she spoke to lead the way.

Richard and Kitty exchanged puzzled glances and hurried after her.

"Georgiana is upstairs in her room," Elizabeth told them, as they passed through the entrance hall. "I will take you there presently but first you must come into Fitzwilliam's study for a few moments."

"What are you about Lizzy?" Kitty asked. "Why are you acting so strangely?"

Elizabeth simply opened the door to Darcy's office in reply, and Kitty and Richard stepped into the room.

Darcy was facing the door. He looked up as his cousins entered, and the young man facing him turned.

"Wakefield?" Richard's exclamation was one of the utmost surprise and confusion.

"Yes sir," Nathaniel responded quickly, and then hesitated, suddenly wishing very much that he had thought to rehearse this moment earlier in the day.

"What does this mean lad?" Richard asked, his voice gruff, but his generous concern betrayed by his familiar mode of address. "Your note said you'd been called away by a family emergency, but I know you've no family left at Pemberley, so you'd better have a deuced good explanation for why I come and find you here after being left in the dark for five days as to what had happened to you."

"I apologize, sir, for intentionally misleading you as I did," Nathaniel said, daring for an instant to meet his employer's eyes. "But," dropping his eyes again and speaking quickly, "as it was Mr. Darcy who sent for me, and simultaneously ordered me to secrecy, I think perhaps he had better tell you the story."

The corner of Darcy's mouth twitched. As serious as the matter was, he could not help but rather enjoy Richard's bafflement and Nathaniel's discomfiture. "On the contrary Mr. Wakefield," he said. "As one of the principles in the story you can certainly tell it better than I can. In the first half of the story I play no part at all, for if I had it would assuredly have taken a very different path."

Nathaniel studied his potential brother-in-law for a moment. He was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Darcy only teased people whom he felt completely comfortable around, and the fact that Mr. Darcy was most assuredly teasing him, in the presence of Lord Matlock, gave Nathaniel a sudden rush of hope. Mr. Darcy must be expecting a favorable reaction from his cousin.

"One of you tell me what is going on here!" Richard thundered in the tone which he seldom used anymore, but which used to make the men of his regiment snap to attention.

The ladies had been standing silently by all this time, but now Elizabeth broke in.

"Perhaps it would be better for Kitty and I to go to Georgiana," she said. "This interview will certainly take quite some time, and I think Georgiana would like to tell Kitty herself. Will you come Kitty?"

"Of course, if you think that would be best Lizzy," Kitty said, deferring to her sister in her bewilderment.

They left the room.

"Georgiana is mixed up in… whatever this is?" Richard asked, turning back to the two gentlemen opposite him.

"You had better sit down, Richard," Darcy said. "And you had better begin your tale at once, Mr. Wakefield."

"Well, you see sir…"

It was not an easy story to tell, but Nathaniel did it in the end, Darcy inserting a line or two here and there, and Richard listening in silence until the very end.

Even when the tale had been told right up to the present moment, and Nathaniel had fallen silent, Richard still did not move or speak.

"Richard?" Darcy questioned.

He roused himself then. "Well," he said, speaking briskly, "It all seems to be settled satisfactorily."

Darcy and Nathaniel both stared at him for a moment.

"I take it then, sir, that you do not object to my marrying your cousin?" Nathaniel asked hesitantly.

"No," Richard said. "Why should I?"

Nathaniel and Darcy had nothing to respond, so Richard went on, "I agree that he," gesturing towards Nathaniel, "must have property chosen and be ready to purchase it as soon as they are married, so Georgiana will have a permanent home to come to. But there should be no problems there. In truth I don't even see why they need wait another year. Your main reason for that, Darcy, seemed to be that you wished to limit my inconvenience, but if I am to lose such a fine steward as Mr. Wakefield it might as well be now as in twelve months. And I wonder if there is not some way to manage so that…"

He paused and then looked up at Nathaniel. "Do you remember when I spoke to you of my desire to purchase the property adjoining Matlock on the north side? Its owner is an elderly gentleman whose daughter has been begging him to give up his estate and come live with her and her husband in Town. I am sure he would be easily induced to sell."

"You… still wish to purchase the property then, sir?" Nathaniel asked with uncharacteristic slowness, still too dazed by Lord Matlock's reaction to think clearly.

"No, no," Richard cried impatiently. "I wish _you_ to purchase it. It is the ideal place for you. The property is five hundred acres, and if you do not want it all I would be happy to take a hundred or so off your hands for a fair price, the house is a fine, large one, and will only take a little fixing up, you are familiar already with the land and the people, and best of all, Kitty and Georgiana would be close to each-other, and I should never be entirely bereft of your advice and I hope, friendship."

"I don't… I don't know what to say sir," Nathaniel said slowly. He turned to Darcy. "Do you have any objection?"

"No," Darcy said, seemingly in a similar daze, now due both to Richard's reaction and the ease with which he had set aside the one-year stipulation.

"Thank you, sir," Nathaniel began, looking back at Richard, but Richard waved his words away.

"You have nothing to thank me for Wakefield. If ever there were two people deserving of happiness it is Georgiana and yourself."

Nathaniel was forced to turn away, emotion overpowering his ability to speak for the third time in six days.

A knock sounded on the door, and Elizabeth looked in. The slightly anxious lines on her forehead smoothed out, as Darcy and Richard both turned to her with reassuring smiles.

"May I steal Nathaniel?" she asked. "Georgiana and Kitty would both very much like him to come upstairs for a few moments."

"Certainly," Darcy said, as Nathaniel turned to face them again and moved to stand beside Elizabeth. She smiled and turned to lead the way, and Nathaniel bowed his head to the two gentleman and followed her out, shutting the door behind him.

When they were gone, Richard and Fitzwilliam faced each-other in silence for a moment. Then, Richard grinned. "What I wouldn't have given to see your face when you caught them in my orchard Darcy."

Darcy's face went from shocked, to angry, to amused in the space of a few seconds. Then he laughed. "I do not think I will ever be able to look back on that moment with the same lightheartedness as you, who were not there, are able to, but I shall endeavor not to think of it with pain anymore. There were many hard and painful moments for all involved, Richard," he added more seriously.

"I don't doubt that Darcy at all," Richard said, returning likewise to seriousness. "But I think you did the right thing in the end. In one thing, I have perhaps a better perspective than you. I saw Wakefield nearly every day last year, and though he could sometimes hide it and always bore up like a soldier, there can be no doubt that he was suffering from the acutest kind of heartache. I know how faithful he is. Georgiana will never feel unloved while he lives. What more could you ask for her than that?"

* * *

The conversation in Georgiana's room, after the first ecstatic greeting between Kitty and Georgiana, had gone along much the same lines as the one in Darcy's study, but with more laughter, and more tears. And when Nathaniel came up, and told them of Richard's plan, their joy was complete. Georgiana had not imagined she could be more happy than she had been last evening, when her brother had told her of his conversation with Nathaniel, and that they had only to endure a year's engagement, a time of working and waiting contentedly together, before they would be allowed to wed, but now even that stipulation had been removed. Now they need only wait until Nathaniel had set his work at Matlock in order, and until it had been determined if the owner of the property adjoining Matlock would sell it, and everyone was quite in agreement that he would.

Only one shadow marred all their sunshine, and that was that Richard and Kitty must leave again the next morning, and take Nathaniel with them, for none could afford to be away from Matlock longer than one more night. A date for Nathaniel to return to Pemberley could not yet be determined, but he promised to write often to Pemberley, and keep them informed of the progress he made.

There was so much to talk about that the sun had set before Georgiana was finally persuaded by Elizabeth and Kitty to partake of the contents of a tray brought up by Mrs. Reynolds, and then to rest again, while the rest of the party went downstairs to dine. Nathaniel would have liked to stay with Georgiana while the others ate, but propriety would not allow it, and now that her life was no longer in danger, propriety must once more be observed.

* * *

Georgiana slept better than would have been expected, given how many joyful thoughts there were to keep her awake, for Mrs. Reynolds was an apt nurse, and provided exactly the calming influence Georgiana needed to help her rest at last. Thus, Elizabeth brooked no opposition the following morning, when she insisted on dressing and going downstairs to say goodbye to the little group departing for Matlock.

Nathaniel saw her coming down the stairs, leaning on Elizabeth's arm, and his eyes lit up with that dancing light which Georgiana knew of old.

Kitty came forward, and caught her friend in a warm embrace, holding her tightly, the fear of losing her still fresh upon her. Georgiana returned the embrace, hugging her friend with all the little strength she possessed.

Richard was next. He made a joke, and Georgiana laughed, and then he had gathered her into a rough, yet gentle hug, as he used to when he was quite a young man, setting off for the wars, and she a little girl.

Then it was Nathaniel's turn. Georgiana approached him slowly, and they stood, looking at each other in silence for a long moment.

Everyone else seemed very busy all at once, seeing to the carriage or making their own farewells, and even though they were surrounded by people, they were quite alone.

Nathaniel lifted Georgiana's hands and kissed them.

"This is goodbye, then," he said quietly.

"But not forever," Georgiana whispered.

"No," he replied. "Never again," reaching up as he spoke to brush a strand of golden hair from her face, and then cupping her cheek with his hand. "I shall be back as soon as I have spent a little time working to prove to myself that this is not just some happy dream, from which I shall awake with a start."

"It does feel like a dream," Georgiana said softly, "But I think it is really more like waking up after years of being asleep."

"That everything should finally be falling into place as it is, may feel like a dream," Nathaniel replied. "But you never have. You have always been so real… so perfectly real, Georgiana." He stopped.

It was the foolish conversation of lovers, which no one but the two who love, and God, can understand.

The carriage was at the door, and Richard was handing Kitty in.

Nathaniel and Georgiana saw it, and turned to each other again with the desperation of having a thousand things still to say, and no time to say them in.

"I shall see you soon," Nathaniel promised, and then he turned and hurried out to the carriage, and in another minute, he was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: November and December 1818**

After all the suffering that Nathaniel and Georgiana had endured, it was only right and just that everything should progress with the perfect smoothness that it did over the following weeks.

Nathaniel and the Matlocks arrived home in the last week of October. By the second week in November there were two applicants for the stewardship of Matlock, by the third week one had been selected, and by the fourth Mr. Carter had begun his trial period. Nathaniel spent many hours going over the books and riding over the estate with him, to assure that he was well prepared for his work.

The very day after their return to Matlock, Richard and Nathaniel had ridden over to Springthorne, the estate which Richard had spoken of. Mr. Finch, upon being applied to, proved most eager to sell his property to someone who would care for it and love it, as he had for so many years. It seemed he had simply been waiting for the right buyer to appear, and Nathaniel, with his experience, mixed with youthful eagerness, suited the old gentlemen perfectly.

When Nathaniel and Lord Matlock had ridden away, and Nathaniel looked back at the stone house, situated on a high piece of ground, with the Yorkshire hills rolling away on either hand and rising up in the distance to craggy peaks covered in heather, he knew that he was looking back on home.

Thus it was that in the first week of December, Nathaniel entered Pemberley House once more, accompanied by a light flurry of snowflakes. There was no one in the entrance but the footman who admitted him, but soft strains of music soon guided his willing feet to the sitting room, where Georgiana was sitting at her pianoforte. She was playing _Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring_, her back was to the door, and Nathaniel stood watching her in silence, his heart filled at once with both overwhelming joy and perfect peace. As Georgiana's fingers lifted off the keys after the last soft chord had melted away, Nathaniel clapped lightly, and Georgiana turned with a smile, expecting to see Fitzwilliam. Their eyes met, and there was a moment of breathless silence, before Georgiana started to her feet with a glad little cry and ran forward. Nathaniel met her halfway and caught her in his arms.

They stood silently for several moments, until Nathaniel said, "Let me see your face."

Georgiana raised it to him, and he looked at her earnestly. "Yes," he said. "There is color in your cheeks again, thank God."

"I am quite well again, Nathaniel," Georgiana said. "And you, you are well also? Your ride was not too chilling?"

"No," he replied. "But Georgiana, I cannot let this opportunity pass. I realized about a week ago, that due to the unusual history surrounding our relationship, I somehow overlooked actually asking you to marry me. I asked you to wait for me, but that is all. I intend to remedy that now."

He went down on one knee. "Georgiana Darcy, will you be my wife?"

"Of course I will," she cried, tears starting to her eyes in spite of herself. She took a step forward and took his face between her hands. "You would have to be a fool Nathaniel Wakefield, not to know the answer to that question by now," she said, with a laugh that was brighter than the sun.

"I _am_ a fool," he said, rising and taking her hands in both of his. "A fool to think I could ever have _you_. But then, you are a fool as well, for having me."

"We shall be fools together then, at any rate," Georgiana whispered, looking up earnestly into his blue eyes, her tone slightly breathless.

They were so close, their faces mere inches apart. Georgiana's lips parted, and Nathaniel kissed her. It was a light, tender kiss, like butterflies on flowers, or snow on upturned faces. It was a promise of kisses to come.

A step was heard in the hall without and Elizabeth's voice was heard. But there was no fear of discovery in the lovers' hearts now. Georgiana smiled at her Nathaniel, and they turned to greet Elizabeth together.

* * *

When Darcy, Nathaniel, Georgiana, and Elizabeth had conferred together, it was discovered that the only things left to do before the wedding were to procure the necessary license and set a date. Neither the bride nor the groom wished the banns read in Pemberley's church where both of them were well known, for there would be enough stir as it was, and Darcy was not quite comfortable bringing the case before the Archbishop, as was required to purchase a special license allowing Georgiana to be married from her own home, for fear of certain noble relations getting wind of the matter before all was settled. So it was decided that Nathaniel would procure a Common License, and the whole party would drive down to Pemberley Church early in the morning of December 5th, and there Georgiana and Nathaniel would be married.

On the 3rd, the Bingleys were invited to come and stay at Pemberley for a day or two. They came, and the whole story was told again. Jane's sweet temper, coupled with the remembrance of all she had suffered when she and Bingley had been so unfairly separated, made her instantly sympathetic to the young people, and Charles, whose father had made his money in trade, could never object to a person for the way they earned their living.

The Matlocks arrived on the 4th, thereby completing the party, for these two families were to be the only guests besides those already residing at Pemberley, which was exactly the way Georgiana wanted it.

* * *

As the sun rose on the 5th and peeped through the lacey curtains in Georgiana's room, it found her standing before the mirror in her wedding gown. She had chosen not to wear a white dress as a step towards renouncing the wealth and luxury she once knew, and her silk dress was a soft shade of coral. Her hair had been plaited into a crown and Kitty had fastened small white flowers from the hothouse here and there in the golden braids. A small bouquet of coral roses and the same white flowers, tied together with a blue ribbon, lay nearby with one of Kitty's lacy white handkerchiefs, ready to complete the outfit.

"You look _so_ beautiful Georgiana," Kitty said, smiling at the bride's reflection in the mirror. "Are you nervous?"

"No," Georgiana said truthfully. "I feel… peaceful. I once said I believed in a plan for all things, but I never trusted in the plan for me. I never thought it could be a happy one and I suffered so on account of it. Now I know in my heart what I before professed in words."

Kitty put an arm around Georgiana's shoulder and Georgiana leaned her head against her friend's.

"Have I told you yet how glad I am that you will be living so close?" Kitty asked.

"Yes!" Georgiana laughed. "At least twenty times, Kitty."

Kitty gave her a playful shove.

Lizzy entered the room at that moment and Kitty, turning to her, said, "There you are Lizzy. Will you inspect the bride while I run and see how Jane is getting on with the girl's dresses?"

Elizabeth came to stand in front of Georgiana and straightened the sleeve which had been rumpled by Kitty's hand.

"You look lovely Georgiana," she said.

"Elizabeth?" Georgiana took Lizzy's shoulders and forced her to look up into her face. "Elizabeth are you crying?"

Lizzy laughed, brushing away the betraying tears.

"Lizzy," Georgiana murmured.

"I shall miss you so very much," Elizabeth whispered, her voice breaking completely on the last word.

"Lizzy don't," Georgiana cried, her own voice suddenly choked with emotion as she pulled her beloved sister into a tight hug. They clung to each other and two large tears rolled down Georgiana's cheeks and fell on Lizzy's shoulder.

Elizabeth recovered first. "Goodness, what am I thinking? You must not have red eyes and a running nose during the ceremony. I am quite hopeless, but you will distress Nathaniel. And now it is I who have quite ruined your dress!"

"No, it is perfectly unhurt," Georgiana protested. "And Lizzy, I will not be gone so far but that I will see you often and I promise to always be your little sister."

"No," Lizzy whispered, taking her hand. "You are a woman now, Georgiana, and your days of being the little sister are over. But I would ask you always to be simply my sister."

"Always Lizzy."

* * *

Nathaniel and Richard rode down to the church together before the rest of the party. The Bingley carriage followed soon afterwards with Charles, Jane, Anna, Kitty, Cathy, and William, for the littlest children had been left at home due to the cold and the early hour. Last of all came the Darcy carriage with Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth, and Georgiana inside.

The early morning light, filtering through the stain-glass windows, cast little rainbows over the small group as they assembled in the pews.

There was no one to play the organ, but they all sang, Elizabeth, Kitty, and Jane's voices rising sweetly to the rafters, as Cathy and Anna led the way up the aisle, in their little white frocks, scattering white rose petals with the happy lack of precision common among little girls of three years old.

Behind them came the bride, leaning on her brother's arm, and while Georgiana was everything radiantly beautiful, it was her husband's face, as he gave up his only sister, that Elizabeth never forgot.

Georgiana saw only Nathaniel, and Nathaniel, standing up by the alter with Richard at his side, saw only Georgiana. His eyes lit up at the sight of her, as they always did, and Georgiana saw, with the kind of joy that made her heart ache, so strong was it, that not a single trace of the haunting, suffering look she used to see so often remained in them now.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…."

* * *

The ceremony was finished, and Nathaniel and Georgiana Wakefield rode back to Pemberley house in the Darcy carriage alone together, while Darcy took Nathaniel's horse, and Elizabeth rode in the Bingley's carriage.

A wedding breakfast had been prepared, and never was a party so merry on a cold morning in early December as that party at Pemberley was. Louis, James, and Elinor were brought downstairs to join in the festivities, and there was hot chocolate, and coffee, and sandwiches, and little cakes for all to partake of.

The newlyweds were to travel back to Matlock with Kitty and Richard, to stay at the great house while their new home at Springthorne was being prepared. They were to leave at one in the afternoon, so as to be home well before the early winter sunset, but no one seemed to want to think of that, and it was not until the clock had struck three quarters past twelve, and Georgiana had left the party and returned dressed in her traveling coat, that anyone would admit that the parting was imminent.

Georgiana went first to Jane and Charles, thanked them for coming, and for all their kindness.

Then she went to Elizabeth, where she sat holding Elinor, and knelt down beside her chair. Georgiana reached out and touched the baby's soft cheek. Elinor reached for her aunt, and Georgiana took her gently, holding back tears as she kissed the baby's forehead, and cuddled her for a moment. With the baby still in her arms, Georgiana looked up at Elizabeth, who had tears in her eyes as well.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth," Georgiana whispered. "Remember that I am not far."

"I will remember," Elizabeth promised, bending to kiss Georgiana's forehead as a moment before Georgiana had kissed Elinor's. "God bless you dearest," she whispered.

Fitzwilliam was last. Georgiana went up to him and they regarded each-other silently for a long moment.

Then Darcy offered his arm, she took it, and he accompanied her out of the house and down the steps to the waiting carriage, in which she was to ride back to Matlock with Kitty and the children, while Nathaniel and Richard escorted them on horseback.

Kitty, James, and Cathy were already seated inside, Richard had mounted, and Nathaniel stood by the carriage door, waiting to hand Georgiana in.

But Darcy did not relinquish his sister's arm, instead saying quietly to Nathaniel, "From now on this will indeed be your task. But I should like to do it one last time."

Nathaniel stepped aside, understanding, and Darcy handed Georgiana in, saw her settled in her seat, gave her a little nod and smile which said all that he could not find the words to say, and closed the door.

Then Darcy turned to Nathaniel and held out his hand. "Take care of her, Wakefield."

"I will, sir." Nathaniel's voice was quiet, but firm.

They shook hands, and then Nathaniel swung himself up on his horse, the driver signaled to his team, and the little party started off.

Darcy turned and walked slowly up the steps to where Elizabeth stood. He moved to stand beside her, and they both watched until the carriage had disappeared completely from sight.

"I am very happy she is near to Kitty," Elizabeth said, always the first to break the silence. "It will be a great change for her, but she will weather it well."

Darcy reached over and took Elinor from her arms. The baby cooed and reached for his cravat. "I am thankful I will not have to part with you any time soon, little Elinor," he said to her.

Elizabeth laughed. "Indeed, but someday…"

"I will think about someday when it arrives." Darcy said. "Now, I think I should like a quiet afternoon with just you and the children. Will you oblige me?"

"I would, and gladly. But we have not discussed when the Bingleys are to leave yet. Even should they wish to return home tonight, Highwood is only half the distance that Matlock is. They may stay another hour or more."

But it was not be so, for at that moment Jane's step was heard in the hall, and she appeared beside them, pulling on her gloves.

"Leaving so soon Jane?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

"Yes Lizzy," Jane replied, kissing her cheek in farewell. "After all the bustle and activity of the last few weeks I am sure you and your family can want nothing more than to have a few peaceful days to yourselves."

"Dear Jane. Your understanding and sweetness are unequalled," Elizabeth said, embracing her sister. "We shall look forward to seeing you all here at Christmas," she added, as Bingley approached with his little daughter's hand in his own.

The last of the farewells were warmly exchanged, and then the Bingleys drove away.

"Now will you join me?" Darcy asked Elizabeth.

She smiled at him from over Elinor's downy little head.

"Of course."

She put her hand through his arm and off they went.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, for reviewing, for everything you do. :) See you in a few days for the final chapter!


	22. Chapter 22

Shoutout to Saralee for leaving not only the 100th review, but the 200th review as well!

* * *

**Chapter 22: The Last Chapter**

Fleurette flew over the ground, her delicate hoofs barely seeming to touch the road as she ran. Georgiana bent low in the saddle, horse and rider moving together as one fluid entity, sweeping along, neck and neck with the winter wind.

The road had been running along straight for nearly a mile, but now it bent, and before this bend Georgiana slowed, drawing Fleurette up smoothly and turning to look back down the road.

Nathaniel cantered up beside her. He had not raced up that last stretch of road so fast, partly because his Regulus, though a fine mount, was not a daughter of Pegasus as Fleurette was, and partly because there was something intoxicating about the image of Georgiana flying gracefully along before him with the wind in her hair. It had come loose in her wild ride and fell down the back and about the shoulders of her dark blue coat in golden waves. Her glowing face was framed in windblown curls, her fast breathing made little clouds in the December air, and her dark eyes danced as she waited for him to come alongside her.

"I wanted to wait for you, before going on," she explained. "You can see the house once you round this bend can you not?"

"Yes. How did you know?" Nathaniel asked in some surprise.

"I don't quite know," Georgiana said, smiling. "I just felt, all at once, like I was home."

Nathaniel regarded her in wonder. It was an expression that he had found himself wearing often in the last few days, when he looked at his beautiful young wife and marveled that she could be his.

They moved forward again at a slow canter, and as the road bent, Springthorne opened up before them with its hills, now dusted with the first snows of winter, its quiet valleys, sleeping until the spring should wake them, and the grey stone house in the distance.

They dismounted near the house and tethered their horses to an evergreen tree. Georgiana stroked Fleurette's neck as the beautiful creature nibbled at a feathery branch.

Georgiana had not thought Fleurette would come with her to Yorkshire, but Darcy had said, "She is your horse, and where you go, so does she." When Georgiana had arrived at Matlock, Fleurette was already installed in the stable there, having been ridden over by one of Pemberley's grooms the day before.

Arrived at the front door, Nathaniel produced the key and unlocked it, and he and Georgiana entered. There was no one there, for the old inhabitants were gone and the house was empty, waiting for its new master and mistress to take possession.

Hand in hand, Georgiana and Nathaniel walked from room to room of the ground floor, from the entrance hall to the front parlor, to the dining room, and down the short hall to the kitchen. Back to the entrance hall and across to the room which served as both library and study, and then up the stairs, which opened up at the top onto another bright, spacious hallway.

There were four doors, two on each side, leading to comfortably sized rooms, and one door at the end of the hall, which Nathaniel opened, saying, "This will be our room."

It was the largest of the upstairs rooms. Its walls were paneled with smooth, light wood and the large fireplace at one end was of the grey stone with which the house was primarily built. Separate doors of the same light wood led to closet and washroom. There were tall windows on either side of the fireplace which let the morning sunlight stream in, bathing everything in cheerful light.

"I love it, Nathaniel," Georgiana said, when she had made a full circle around the room and returned to take his hand once more.

"You truly like it, Georgiana, and are not just saying that to please me?" Nathaniel asked. "For you already know my feelings about Springthorne."

"No. It is truly perfect," she said earnestly. "Why, I have been here only an hour and this place already feels almost as dear to me as Pemberley. I am prepared to be very happy here."

Nathaniel squeezed her hand gratefully. Still holding his hand, Georgiana moved to continue the tour, but he suddenly pulled her back and, drawing her to him, kissed her quickly. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him back, a series of short, sweet kisses, punctuated by breathless laughter and loving smiles.

"Come," Nathaniel said. "There is one more room downstairs you haven't seen yet."

"I thought we went over all the ground floor rooms."

"There is the back parlor still," Nathaniel said, drawing her towards the stairwell. Georgiana followed, slightly mystified.

But when she walked into the little family parlor and saw what was there, she clapped her hands and cried out in delight, "Oh, it is my pianoforte!"

She hurried forward to run her hands over the smooth wood and caress the snowy white keys in a way that showed Nathaniel how much she had secretly longed for the beloved instrument, even after only four days.

"Your brother sent it," he explained, smiling at her joy. "He wanted you to have one right away and he thought this one would make you feel at home."

"He was right," Georgiana said softly.

"He is also a step ahead of us," Nathaniel said laughingly. "We have barely begun the process of furnishing this place."

"We shall get everything done in time," Georgiana said. "I am looking forward to the process of turning this place into our home almost as much as I am looking forward to its being finished."

"You must remember that it cannot be Pemberley," Nathaniel warned. "We cannot afford Pemberley."

"But we can afford a simple, lovely home, Nathaniel," Georgiana said earnestly, coming into his arms and lifting her face to kiss him tenderly. "And that is all I want."

* * *

Georgiana was kept so busy over the next three weeks that she had no time whatsoever for the homesickness that young brides sometimes suffer. She and Nathaniel were constantly riding back and forth from Matlock to Springthorne, sometimes accompanied by Richard or Kitty, as they went about the often difficult but always delightful task of preparing their new home.

Some of the furnishings had been left, but many had been taken or sold, and the house must be fitted out with new ones. Georgiana's good taste, coupled with her desire to prove to Nathaniel that she could make the best of her change in circumstances, worked in harmony to fit the house up with a simplicity and elegance delightful to behold. Nothing unnecessary was bought, but what was bought was of a fine quality, both practical and pleasing to the eye.

Servants must be hired, four in all, not many compared to the numerous staff at Pemberley to be sure, but more than enough for the size of the house at Springthorne. Kitty was of assistance here, and soon a cook, upstairs maid, downstairs maid, and manservant to see to the new carriage and the horses had been hired and moved into their respective quarters.

Between meetings with Mr. Carter, for he would not rest until he was thoroughly convinced Matlock was in hands that understood it, getting to know his own land, and assisting Georgiana in her work on the house, Nathaniel was perhaps the busiest of all, and Georgiana found herself growing eager for the time when they would be settled quietly in their new home, with time to spend simply being together.

But first there was Christmas to celebrate, for the newly married Wakefields, as well as the Matlocks and Bingleys, had left Pemberley three weeks before with invitations to return on the 23rd of December, and stay through the New Year. Georgiana was happy to return to Pemberley, happy that the initial separation from her family had been so short and easy to bear, and happiest of all that when she returned to Yorkshire it would be to her new home and life with Nathaniel.

* * *

Elizabeth had invited the Collins to spend Christmas with them at Pemberley, but Charlotte was two months away from the delivery of her second child and preferred not to travel so far. Charlotte did not say so in her letter of course, but Elizbeth knew both she and Mr. Collins were hoping it would be a son and the future heir of Longbourn. Instead the Collins were to spend the holidays with Charlotte's family in Hertfordshire, which arrangement suited Elizabeth very well in the end, for it resulted in her mother and father also declining her invitation, in favor of spending Christmas in the comfort of their own home, in the company of the Lucas family, the Collinses, Mary and her husband, and their little son Christopher. Elizabeth privately expected that the Wickhams would also attend and was heartily glad that she was to have her own Christmas with the people she loved best in the world, far away from _that_ gathering.

Lady Ashton would come with the Matlocks, but her society was never unwelcome at Pemberley. Thus, as Elizabeth realized with surprise, there was to be only one potentially problematic guest, in comparison to the usual four or five, for Lady Catherine had accepted her invitation and was to arrive on Christmas Eve.

* * *

The morning of the 23rd dawned cold and clear, and shortly after breakfast the Bingley carriage rolled up Pemberley's drive, and a little less than an hour later the two carriages from Yorkshire arrived together.

There was laughter and embraces and a few tears.

Georgiana was whirled from one hug to another, until she found herself standing in front of her brother. Darcy studied her for a moment, and he found no fault in what he saw. Georgiana was fairly glowing with happiness. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were bright, and her brother knew the answer before he asked the question.

"Happy?"

"So happy."

They all trooped inside, Cathy and James were whisked away to the nursery to play with their cousins, and the adults gathered in the parlor, to warm themselves before a cheerful Christmas fire and to talk. And how they did talk. There was so much to speak of, even after less than a month of separation, that the day passed away almost before anyone was aware of the fact, and Christmas Eve was nearly upon them.

* * *

Georgiana lay on her side, watching Nathaniel as he pulled on his boots and fastened the buttons on his overcoat by candlelight. The gentlemen were to go out shooting that morning, for the purpose of securing Christmas dinner, and they had agreed to start before sunup.

Finished, Nathaniel turned to see if Georgiana was awake yet, and seeing that she was, walked over to the bed and bent over her, whispering, "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied, smiling as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. "You are ready to set out then?"

"Yes."

"I shall miss you," playfully.

Nathaniel smiled. "Why don't you come with us then? You are as good a horsewoman as any."

"I would," she replied, pulling herself up so that her back was against the headboard, and giving Nathaniel room to sit down on the edge of the bed. "But you know Lizzy has other plans for this morning. We must have the house ready for my aunt, Lady Catherine, when she arrives. And Nathaniel," she added earnestly, "I've been meaning to speak to you about Aunt Catherine. You must let _me _tell her about us. She… she has a heart, though it is usually buried under layers of family pride and a controlling nature. However, she will assuredly be very angry at first. Her words cannot hurt me, for I became immune to them long ago, but it would pain me very much to have _you_ exposed to her wrath so soon."

Nathaniel frowned a little. "I dislike the idea of leaving such an unpleasant task for you to undertake alone. But," he continued, "If you truly think you will suffer less by following this plan, I will not pretend to know better."

"Thank you dearest," Georgiana said, lifting his hands and kissing them, as she had on that painful day by the river that neither of them would ever forget.

He smiled tenderly at her, and then stood up, saying, "I must go. The others will be waiting."

She nodded, and he bent to press a farewell kiss to her lips, and then he turned and left the room, and a few minutes later Georgiana, standing at the window, saw him and the other gentlemen setting off.

* * *

As soon as the ladies were all gathered together, Elizabeth set them to work decorating the house with Christmas greenery.

It was a delightful morning, for there is nothing so pleasant as to be busy at some agreeable work with people whom it is a pleasure to be with.

Lady Ashton, who was given a comfortable chair by the fire and a pile of greenery and holly sprigs to weave together and form into wreaths, had never in all her life been privy to such a charming gathering, for the young women laughed and chattered with the happy abandon of schoolgirls, and yet with the grace and maturity of women, wives, and mothers at the same time.

Jane was her ever sweet and cheerful self, Elizabeth was at her most lively and vivacious, Kitty was everything loving and graceful, and as for Georgiana, happiness radiated from her like heat from a candle, and all those about her basked in her light.

They had only just finished their task, and were standing back to admire their handiwork, when a footman entered and barely had time to announce, "Lady Catherine de Bourgh," before the lady swept into the room in a rustle of burgundy silk.

All the ladies in the room curtsied, and then Elizabeth stepped forward, saying warmly, "Lady Catherine, I am so glad you could come and see us this year. Won't you come sit down? Or would you like to be shown to your rooms so you may freshen up after your long journey from London?"

"I am not so old that a few hours in a carriage will render me exhausted," Lady Catherine said, rustling across the room and sitting down upon the sofa as she spoke. "The inn that I stayed in last night was very much lacking in the necessary comforts, and I made sure to instruct the landlady as to the improvements she must make if she wishes genteel people to continue to stop there, but the ride itself was not taxing."

Even Elizabeth was at a loss as to how to reply to such a speech, but Georgiana closed the breach by coming forward to kiss her aunt's cheek. Elizabeth, watching her a little anxiously, noted that she kept her left hand hidden within a fold of her skirt, but that in all other respects she seemed perfectly calm.

Kitty must greet Lady Catherine next, and speak to her for a moment about Cathy, and then it was Lady Ashton's turn, and that was all there was time for before the footman entered again to tell them that the gentlemen had returned from their hunting, and would join them momentarily.

Richard and Darcy were the first to appear, bringing the freshness of the outdoors, well satisfied with their day's sport, and full of admiration for the festive glory in which the house was now arrayed.

Both went at once to their aunt and greeted her affectionately, for neither had forgotten her generosity in coming so far to assist them as best she might at the memorable court case for Cathy's guardianship, almost exactly one year before.

Bingley was the next to join them, and he and Richard had soon launched into an animated description of their sport, for the benefit of the room at large.

Lady Catherine listened with the other ladies at first, but she soon seemed to grow distracted, and it was not long before she leaned over to Elizabeth, who was sitting beside her, and asked, "Who is that young man?"

Nathaniel had entered a moment before and, catching Darcy's eye, had moved quietly over to the corner of the room where he stood.

"Has Georgiana said aught to you of how she wishes Lady Catherine to be told of your marriage?" Darcy had asked him in a low voice.

"She told me quite decidedly that she wished to be the one to do the telling."

Darcy had nodded reluctantly.

Lady Catherine had seen this exchange, though she could catch no word of what they were saying, and was instantly curious as to the identity of the unknown young man, who, without being at all conscious of the fact, cut rather a rather dashing figure, with his bright blue eyes, his waving brown hair, and his dark green coat.

Elizabeth looked to see whom Lady Catherine meant, though she knew well enough. "That is Mr. Wakefield," she began, and then stopped. She looked towards Georgiana, but she was listening attentively to Richard's narration, and gave no sign that she had heard the exchange.

"Call him over. I wish to be introduced," Lady Catherine demanded in her usual imperious tone.

Elizabeth did so, and Nathaniel approached and bowed.

"Lady Catherine, may I present Mr. Wakefield."

Lady Catherine inclined her head graciously.

"It is an honor to meet your ladyship," Nathaniel said.

"Where are your people from, Mr. Wakefield?"

The abruptness of the question startled Nathaniel a little, but he remembered Georgiana's request and answered simply, "Here in Derbyshire, your ladyship."

"Does your family own extensive property here?"

"No, your ladyship," with a faint smile. "There are none of my family still living in Derbyshire now. I recently purchased an estate in Yorkshire, not far from Matlock. Lord Matlock has been my friend for nearly a year now, and I was acquainted with Mr. Darcy even before that."

He hoped that this voluntary supply of information would be enough for Lady Catherine, but it was not to be so.

"If you are intimate in my nephews' circle, how is it that I have never seen you in London?"

For the first time Nathaniel hesitated. While he was in no way ashamed of his humble beginnings, he knew that, for Georgiana's sake, he must conceal wherever possible the fact that he had once been a simple farm laborer. Yet he could not bring himself to stoop to lying, and so he faltered.

After a moment he said slowly, "The upkeep of the property under my care has required a great deal of my attention these last few years, and I have always preferred the country to the city."

"Your land must be very extensive to keep you so busy. How large is your estate, pray tell?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but Nathaniel was ready this time and said smoothly, "It is not so very large, but it provides me with everything I need, and with ample occupation, without which I confess I should be very restless."

"I see," Lady Catherine said, but with less interest than before, for the information that Mr. Wakefield was only a country gentleman with a small estate and no title was a disappointment to her, and when he was called away by Richard a moment later, she was very willing to let him go.

* * *

Dinner was announced, and passed away without incident. Georgiana did not sit by Nathaniel, and did not speak to him much, but she smiled at him whenever she was certain her aunt would not see.

After they had finished eating, the ladies repaired to the parlor again, leaving the gentlemen to their after-dinner talk.

This was the time that Georgiana had chosen to reveal the news of her marriage to her aunt. She was not frightened, but she was uncertain about how to best to approach the subject, and she was still debating within herself when Lady Catherine gave her an unexpected opening.

"Come and sit beside me, Georgiana," she called, gesturing to the seat beside her. "I have something I wish to discuss with you."

The other ladies, each more or less aware of what was very likely about to happen, took seats at a little distance, bent their heads over their books or embroidery, and pretended not to listen.

"Now Georgiana," the aunt began, when the niece had complied with her request and taken the offered seat. "I have never been one to mince words as well you know. Therefore, I must tell you that I am most seriously displeased with the lack of progress you have made in securing a husband. You are…" she hesitated. "Pray remind me of your age?"

"Twenty-one," Georgiana answered demurely, but with a sudden something that was very much like a sparkle of merriment in her dark eyes.

"Twenty-one?" Lady Catherine threw up her hands in consternation. "Why Georgiana, your mother was nineteen when she married your father. You are an heiress, related to men and women of noble birth, and you have a duty to marry in the first circles and continue to elevate your family socially. Yet what progress have you made in fulfilling this duty? None whatsoever!"

"But Aunt Catherine, you must not scold me thus," Georgiana protested mildly, "For I have indeed made progress in _securing_ a husband."

"Indeed?" Lady Catherine looked most surprised. "And what have you accomplished?"

Georgiana had been sitting with her hands folded in her lap, the right one covering the left. Now she drew the latter out and held it out to her aunt.

Lady Catherine stared at the gold band on the ring finger. Her mouth opened and shut several times, but no sound escaped her.

At last she managed, "You… you are married?"

"Yes aunt."

"To whom?"

"To Mr. Wakefield."

Lady Catherine sat perfectly still for a long moment. Then she asked in a low voice, "Surely Georgiana, you cannot mean the very same Mr. Wakefield I spoke to in the parlor not twenty minutes ago?"

"The very same, aunt," Georgiana said, and for a moment feared she had gone too far, for Lady Catherine's face turned the same shade of purple as her dress, and she rose to her feet.

"You are a wretched, lying girl!" she cried. "Tell me that you are lying!"

Georgiana rose likewise. "I am not lying," she said calmly. "Ask Elizabeth, ask Kitty, ask Jane. All three witnessed the ceremony, which took place here at Pemberley, not a month ago."

Lady Catherine did not so much as look at the other ladies, who by this time had dropped all pretense of pretending not to listen and were looking on with varying expressions of alarm.

"That I should live to see the day that Georgiana Darcy threw herself away on a poor country gentleman, known to nobody whatsoever, with no family worth mentioning, and who I highly suspect made what small fortune he has _in trade!_ You will be the laughingstock of society! All gentlewomen will scorn you! I myself will never look upon your face again!"

"You are mistaken Lady Catherine!"

The words came from Kitty, who, unable to remain silent while her dearest friend was being thus abused, now leapt to her feet and came to stand beside Georgiana.

"Not _all_ gentlewomen will scorn her. Here is one who will not. And I assure you, Lady Catherine," she continued, with all the fierce protectiveness of a lioness in her flashing eyes, "that I will use all the influence of my position as the wife of the Earl of Matlock to see to it that Georgiana is not scorned one whit more than can be helped, in a society where scorn and jealousy are held up as virtues."

There was a moment of intense silence.

"Will you scorn her, Jane?" Kitty asked, turning suddenly to her sister.

"Of course not," said Jane, with great feeling.

"Elizabeth?"

"I would die first," Elizabeth said quietly.

"Will you, Lady Ashton?" Kitty asked.

"No, I will not," that lady replied, in a firmer voice than any but Kitty had ever heard her use. "I have come to look upon this young woman," looking tenderly at Kitty, "as my own daughter, and if Georgiana is her family then Georgiana is my family as well, and I will stand by her."

Kitty smiled gratefully at Lady Ashton, and then, turning back to Lady Catherine said, "You see? There are _four_ gentlewomen in this room who will not scorn her, opposed to _one_ who says she will. The odds are against your prophecy being fulfilled."

She looked at Georgiana as she spoke the final words, and Georgiana, with tears of gratitude and affection swimming in her eyes, held out her arms to Kitty, who hugged her tightly.

Lady Catherine stood still for a moment, gasping like a fish out of water. Then she slowly sank down in her seat again, her whole attitude one of utter defeat.

No one spoke. No one could speak, for Georgiana, Kitty, and Elizabeth were all in tears, and Jane and Lady Ashton were very near it.

At last Georgiana sat down again beside her aunt, and said, in a voice still full of emotion, "Please aunt, I do not wish to quarrel with you. Will you try to understand that I have chosen to marry for love, at the cost of wealth and title it is true, but not at the cost of happiness? I have not thrown myself away. Indeed, my life is only just beginning, and I should like you to be a part of it. Will you be, please?"

It was a moment before Lady Catherine would reply. When she did, she asked stiffly, "Why should I remain when my opinions are so clearly unwanted here?"

"Because _you_ are wanted here," Georgiana said gently.

Lady Catherine could not bring herself to meet her niece's eyes just then, but she nodded, and at that moment the door opened, and the gentlemen entered the room.

Darcy and Nathaniel looked instantly towards Georgiana and Lady Catherine as they entered, and one glance each was enough to tell them that the secret had been revealed.

Nathaniel saw the traces of tears on Georgiana's cheeks, and his heart sank within him, and he went to her and took her hands, bending to look into her eyes with an anxious, questioning look.

"Do not be alarmed, Nathaniel," Georgiana whispered softly, smiling reassuringly at him. "It is alright, as I told you it would be."

There was an emotional silence in the room, and Georgiana, turning to the others and blushing a little to see all eyes fixed earnestly upon her, said shyly, "Now, let us be happy. It is Christmas Eve after all."

A breath of fresh air seemed to waft through the room, and suddenly everyone could breathe again, could talk again, could laugh again.

* * *

The children were brought down, and, as the sun set, the whole family gathered close together before the Christmas fire. There was quiet conversation at first, but gradually everyone fell into a contented silence.

Elizabeth, looking about her, felt a deep sense of peace, which filled the depths of her soul and shone in her dark eyes.

Jane and Charles sat together, with Anna curled up in her father's arms, nearly asleep. Tomorrow the house would be filled with the children's laughter, and the pitter-patter of their running feet, but now all six little ones were quiet, in various stages of drowsiness.

Kitty's head was leaning on Richard's shoulder. James' head was in her lap, and she was gently stroking his fair hair back from his forehead. There was a quiet light in her blue eyes, which spoke of deep understanding, consciousness, and love, and Elizabeth, thinking back to the Kitty of five years ago, was amazed anew at the transformation.

Next to them sat Lady Ashton, with Cathy ensconced beside her in the large armchair. The little girl's tumble of copper curls shone in the light of the fire, and there was a thoughtful look in her round, innocent little face.

Lady Catherine was very erect in her chair. It would take time to process the series of shocks she had received that night. But in the end, she _was_ there, and that counted for a great deal.

Georgiana and Nathaniel were sitting a little away from the others, hand in hand. The firelight lit up their faces too, beautiful faces, full of youthful hope. They had come so far together already, and they would continue to face life bravely, with hands and hearts joined.

Elizabeth looked down at Elinor, asleep in her arms, and across to where William and Louis lay on the rug before the fire, contemplating the dancing flames with that serious Darcy expression, and then up at Darcy himself. How she loved him, this man who had grown with her, suffered with her, and loved her more than she felt she could ever deserve for the last five years. He caught her gaze and smiled, and leaned over to brush a stray curl from her face, whispering softly...

_"How are you this evening, Mrs. Darcy?"_

**The End**

* * *

A/N: Thank you so very, very much to each and every one of you who came along with me on this one of life's many little journeys.

Less than two years ago writing was NOT my thing, and I was thoroughly convinced I'd never be anything but terrible at it. But then I discovered the JAFF community, and almost right away I felt so at home here that I somehow convinced myself to write out and post chapter one of _Life at Pemberley_. I didn't expect anyone to even read it, much less like it, so when I checked my email a few hours later and found three lovely little reviews, I sat there in my room and cried happy tears. For this reason I'd like to shoutout nanciellen, CatherineWendell, and my first guest reviewer. Without them, I wouldn't have had the nerve to post a second chapter and I wouldn't be here today. :)

Thank you again and goodbye for now!

RegencyGirl17


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